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GENERAL EDITOR 
WILBUR LUCIUS CROSS 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN YALE UNIVERSITY 




Francis Park-man 



FRANCIS PARKMAN'S 
THE OREGON TRAIL 



EDITED BY 

HARRY G. PAUL 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN THE UNIVERSITY 
OF ILLINOIS 




NEW YORK 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1918 



Copyright, 1918, 

BY 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 



APR 16 1918 



THE QUINN A BOOEN CO. PRESS 
RAHWAY, K. J. 

©CI.A4U4l)16 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction " 

Parkman's Life and Works vii 

The Oregon Trail xi 

Descriptive Bibliography xvi 

The Oregon Trail 

Author's Preface to the First Edition 2 

CHAPTER 

I. The Frontier 3 

II. Breaking the Ice ii 

III. Fort Leavenworth 22 

IV. "Jumping Off" 26 

V. The "Big Blue" 37 

VL The Platte and the Desert 55 

VII. The Buffalo 09 

VIII. Taking French Leave <^5 

IX. Scenes at Fort Laramie loi 

X. The War-parties "7 

XI. Scenes at the Camp I39 

XII. Ill-luck 159 

XIII. Hunting Indians loO 

XIV. The Ogillallah Village 190 

XV. The Hunting Camp 211 

XVI. The Trappers 234 

XVII. The Black Hills 244 

XVIII. A Mountain Hunt 249 

XIX. Passage of the Mountains 261 

XX. The Lonely Journey 278 

XXI. The Pueblo and Bent's Fort 299 

XXII. Tete Rouge, the Volunteer 307 

xxin. Indian Alarms 3'^^ 

XXIV. The Chase 324 

XXV. The Buffalo-camp 334 

XXVI. Down the Arkansas 35o 

xxvii. The Settlements 3o8 

Notes and Comment 381 

Questions for Study and Review 395 

Portrait of Francis Parkman Frontispiece 

Map : The Land of Parkman's Oregon Trail 380 



INTRODUCTION 



PARKMAN'S LIFE AND WORKS 

Francis Parkman was born in Boston, September i6, 
1823. His Puritan ancestry included several ministers, 
with such Old Testament names as Elias and Ebenezer, and 
a prosperous Yankee merchant, from whom Parkman's 
father, the pastor of the New North Church in Boston, 
inherited a comfortable fortune. When Francis was eight 
years old, he was sent to his grandfather's home at Med- 
ford, a few miles from Boston, to gain strength and 
health. " Here," he tells us, " I learned very little, and 
spent the intervals of schooling more profitably in collect- 
ing eggs, insects and reptiles, trapping squirrels and wood- 
chucks, and making persistent, though rarely fortunate, 
attempts to kill birds with arrows." 

At twelve he returned to the city and entered the Chaun- 
cey Hall School, where he was trained to use clear, direct 
English and to memorize the best poetry. After school 
hours he and his boy friends converted the barn-loft into 
the " Star Theatre," where they rehearsed plays, devised 
costumes, and prepared handbills announcing their per- 
formances, which were often " concluded with some inter- 
esting experiments in chemistry by Mr. Parkman." More 
frequently, however, he might have been found reveling in 
the pages of Scott or following Cooper's favorite Leather- 
stocking into the haunts of the Indian. Indeed, he became 
" so identified with the novelist's red heroes," says one of 
his friends, " that he dreamed of them, talked of them more 
than anything else, and emulated them in woodcraft." 



viii Introduction 

We are not surprised, therefore, that soon after entering 
Harvard College, in 1840, Parkman determined to write a 
history of the wars that ended in the conquest of Canada, 
for here, he declared, " the forest drama was more stirring 
and the forest stage more thronged with appropriate fig- 
ures than in any other passage of our history." To this 
task Parkman gradually gave all the powers of his restless, 
untiring nature, which found labor a passion and rest in- 
tolerable ; and though he finished his college course with 
credit and even entered the Harvard Law School, his read- 
ing and study, his play and travel were alike directed to 
prepare him for his task. Whatever Parkman undertook 
he did with all his might; consequently five o'clock of a 
winter morning often found him in a cold room poring by 
candle light over some musty record of the days of Mont- 
calm and Wolf. He read a whole library of American and 
French history and crowded with memoranda his little 
green notebooks. He studied the style and methods of the 
master historians, filled reams of paper with character 
sketches, and strove to learn to write " so men would like 
to read him." 

To this lore of books he added a knowledge of wood- 
craft. During the summer vacations he ranged the woods 
of Northern New York, New England, and Canada, pad- 
dled down the streams Champlain had explored, strode 
along the old war paths of the red men, and shared the 
rough life of the hunter and trapper, the boatman and 
the Indian. Thus he was ever busy preparing for his 
task; and even when an accident in the Harvard gym- 
nasium forced him to go abroad in 1843, he spent some 
time in a convent, that he might be better fitted to write 
of the Canadian Jesuit missionaries. 

In this same quest for materials Parkman planned the 
trip described in The Oregon Trail. The eastern Indians 
he knew well ; but they had been debased by their contact 
with the whites, and only along the western frontier 
could he study the nature and habits of the red men in 
their wild and primitive state. Accompanied by his 



Parkman's Life and Works ix 

" cousin and lifelong friend," Quincy Adams Shaw, he 
therefore set out for the western plains in the spring of 
1846. Here he succeeded in joining a band of savage 
Dahcotahs, lived and hunted with them among the hills 
and valleys of the present state of Wyoming, and re- 
turned, as he says, " with a cartload of experiences." 

Unfortunately, he also brought back a body so shattered 
by disease that he never knew another day entirely free 
from pain. " There was too much soul for the body to 
which it was yoked," says one of his friends; and Park- 
man attempted to spur and whip that jaded body to action. 
His sight was so impaired that for months he was con- 
fined to a darkened room; a strange rushing of blood to 
the head forbade him the continuous use of his mind; and 
to these afflictions was added lameness. His disease 
baffled the doctors, who tried everything from a diet of 
milk to drawing red-hot irons along his spine. But these 
afflictions, which would have killed an ordinary man, only 
made Parkman clinch his teeth and fight the harder. 
While his eyes were bandaged, he dictated to his cousin 
Shaw the narrative of The Oregon Trail, which appeared 
serially in The Knickerbocker Magazine in 1847; and in 
his darkness he devised the means of guiding his pencil 
along the pages that recorded The Conspiracy of Pontiac, 
the earliest volumes of his great history of the American 
forest. 

In time " the enemy," as Parkman called his disease, 
eased its hold; and in 1850 he was married to Miss Cath- 
erine Biglow. In a few years, however, his sky again 
darkened: the death of his little son, in 1857, was soon 
followed by that of his wife; and his disease returned 
with a re-doubled fury that threatened his sight, his reason, 
and his life. Forbidden all literary work, Parkman turned 
to horticulture and filled his garden at Jamaica Plain, 
near Boston, with a thousand varieties of roses. He de- 
lighted in loading with flowers the arms of the chance 
passers-by, or in exhibiting his lilies, one of which, a new 
variety he had produced, brought him a thousand dollars. 



X Introduction 

Later the skill and knowledge he then gained brought him 
a professorship in the Bussey Institue of Harvard College. 

Parkman never wasted a minute allowed him for work 
and seized the first favorable moment for resuming his 
history. At times he could write but six lines a day, and 
even at his best he could never work more than three 
hours out of the twenty-four. But when most men would 
have shown the white flag, Parkman toiled on — gathering 
thousands of pages of manuscripts and letters, consulting 
old newspapers and pamphlets, crossing the ocean time 
after time to examine French and English public records, 
and traveling from Quebec to Florida to visit the sites 
of the chief events recorded in his narratives. Gradually 
the story of the struggle of the French to explore and 
colonize America took shape in his pages: The Pioneers 
of France in the New World, 1865, and The Jesuits in 
North America, 1867, were succeeded by La Salle, 1869, 
and The Old Regime in Canada, 1874. Then followed 
Count Front enac and New France, 1877, and his acknowl- 
edged masterpiece, Montcalm and Wolf, 1884; finally the 
series was ended in 1892 with A Half-Century of Conflict. 
In these pages Parkman shows us Marquette as he first 
catches sight of the broad Mississippi, the lion-hearted 
La Salle toiling through the snow-clad Michigan forests, 
Tonty of the iron hand and gallant old Frontenac holding 
the savages at bay, the black-robed Jesuit Brebeuf tor- 
tured at the stake by the Iroquois, and the frail young 
General Wolf laboring up the rocky steep to meet his 
death on the Plains of Quebec. We listen to the war- 
whoop of the Hurons and the answering crack of the 
white man's rifle ; and we realize that here, indeed, is the 
vast epic of the American forest. 

The completion of Parkman's task, which he had 
planned in his youth and finished after his own " half 
century of conflict," was soon followed by his death. He 
passed away at "nis home in Jamaica Plain, November 8, 
1893, and was buried at Mt. Auburn Cemetery, where he 



The Oregon Trail xi 

rests near Agassiz and Holmes, Lowell and Longfellow. 
The memory of his brave and fruitful life will long 
endure. 

II 
THE OREGON TRAIL 

On the maps which Parkman consulted in planning his 
trip in 1846 that spacious tract lying west of the bend of 
the Missouri and east of the Rocky Mountains, and ex- 
tending from Canada to Texas, was designated as " The 
Great American Desert." Such was the ignorance of 
this region even among those who should have been bet- 
ter informed. This great plain, in which have since been 
developed a half dozen productive and prosperous states, 
busy with mill and farm and ranch, was then one vast, 
unbroken Indian territory. To the south extended Texas, 
which had lately won its freedom from Mexico, but which 
had not as yet added its star to our flag. To the west 
and southwest lay California and New Mexico, ruled by 
their last Mexican governors; while to the north of Cali- 
fornia stretched that vast, undefined territory called the 
Oregon country. 

Among the Indian tribes which then occupied the 
basin of the Missouri, some were native to the region, 
and others had been driven thither by the whites. Thus 
the Delawares, whose forefathers had granted a home to 
William Penn, were forced to accept a strip of territory 
along the north bank of the Kansas, near the Missouri. 
To their north were the Shawanoes, who had been pushed 
on through Ohio and Missouri and were gradually adopt- 
ing the customs of the whites and growing prosperous. 
Still farther north had been colonized the Kickapoos, an 
Illinois tribe; and near them their kinsmen, the Potta- 
wottomies, led a wretched, squalid life. 

Of the tribes native to the region, the Pawnees, who 
dwelt chiefly in the present state of Nebraska, were thq 



xii Introduction 

most formidable and treacherous. They bore a deadly 
hatred toward the great nation of the Dahcotahs, who held 
the buffalo ranges to the north and west of them, and who 
were commonly regarded as the most powerful of the 
Plain Indians. One of these Dahcotah tribes was the 
Ogillallahs, or wanderers, with whom Parkman lived and 
hunted. At that time they were planning to take the war- 
path against their fierce and crafty enemies, the Crows, 
who claimed what is now Northern Wyoming. Among 
the other neighbors of the Dahcotahs were the Cheyennes, 
rich in horses, who frequented the Black Hills; and their 
long-haired friends and cousins dwelling in Eastern Colo- 
rado, the Arapahoes, or dog-eaters, who were shrewd 
traders and, according to Parkman, arrant thieves. In 
these respects they resembled those Arabs of the plains 
along the Arkansas, the Camanches, who ranked an ex- 
pert horse thief above a dashing warrior, and who were, 
perhaps, " the most daring riders in the w^orld." For 
years they and their allies, the Kioways, were the terror 
of travelers across the southern plains; and Parkman 
was indeed fortunate to pass along their borders and 
escape with his scalp. 

The first white men to pierce this region were the ex- 
plorers and missionaries, the trappers and hunters. Most 
of these trappers and hunters were light-hearted French 
Canadians, or dark Creoles from the old Louisiana set- 
tlements, or spare, gaunt, restless Yankees. In their 
quest for the buffalo and the beaver they traced every 
western stream to its source, discovered the easiest and 
best trails, and prepared the way for the government 
explorers and the immigrants. In their boats of buffalo 
hide they brought down their furs and skins to the forts 
and posts of the American Fur Company, which practi- 
cally monopolized the early trade in the basin of the 
Missouri. At these posts these long-haired hermits of 
the plains and mountains drank and gambled away their 
year's earnings and then fitted out on credit for another 
season of toil, gathering buffalo robes among the Indians 



The Oregon Trail xiii 

of the plains, or threading the beaver streams in the 
heart of the Rockies. 

Some of these mountain men marched with the Lewis 
and Clark expedition in 1804-1806 to the mouth of the 
Columbia, where, a few years later, the American Fur 
Company made that brave but fruitless effort to establish 
a trading post, which forms the theme of Irving's Astoria. 
After the War of 1812 Great Britain and the United States 
agreed that this Oregon country should be open for ten 
years to the citizens of either nation, and twice they re- 
newed their treaty. Gradually, however, the rivalry 
between these two nations for this home of the beaver and 
the salmon, this land of promise for the immigrant, grew 
keener and fiercer. About 1832 a train of wagons first 
crossed the Continental Divide to the basin of the Colum- 
bia; and before 1840 the Oregon Trail was well estab- 
lished. 

The immigrants following this great artery of national 
life usually started from Independence, near the site of 
the present Kansas City, or, less frequently, from Fort 
Leavenworth or St. Josesph. Striking off to the north- 
west till they reached the southernmost bend of the Platte 
river, in the present state of Nebraska, they followed that 
stream for more than six hundred miles to one of its 
sources in Wyoming, near that famous gateway to the 
Rockies called South Pass. Here they crossed to the 
Pacific slope, and, pursuing their hard journey across 
Idaho to the tributaries of the Columbia, finally made their 
way down its valley. 

In 1840, when the question of the northwestern boun- 
dary became a grave international issue, the zeal to win 
this country for the Stars and Stripes burned brightly. 
In 1845 three thousand immigrants passed over the 
Oregon Trail; and in 1847 that number was nearly 
doubled. Many of those who braved this long and peril- 
ous journey were prompted by the appeal to patriotism 
or, less frequently, by missionary zeal ; others were lured 
by the call of the wilderness or by the prospect of free 



xiv Introduction 

and fertile land. Whatever their motives, however, these 
immigrants were essentially home seekers and carried in 
their great white-covered wagons chairs and tables, 
ploughs and seeds, Bibl'^s and school books. Fastened at 
the backs of the wagons were well-filled chicken coops or 
the halter ropes of favorite milch cows. Little brown- 
faced, calico-clad girls and small boys in blue jeans rode 
astride some faithful old horse, while their mother sat on 
the wagon seat knitting stockings, and their father 
walked beside the slow, strong ox teams. Frequently 
these caravans halted for a few days while the men shod 
the foot-sore oxen, and the women baked bread and 
washed the soiled clothing; and the long weeks were 
marked by courtships and marriages, births and deaths, 
quarrels and occasional crimes. 

This tide of immigration was near its height when 
Parkman journeyed to the west. In June, 1846, when he 
was at Fort Laramie, Great Britain and the United 
States signed a treaty fixing the boundary of the Oregon 
country at the forty-ninth parallel. Two years later the 
startling news of the discovery of gold in California 
thronged the Trail with thousands and thousands of eager 
prospectors; and again, in 1858, the Colorado gold craze 
crowded this wide-furrowed highway with wagons bear- 
ing the slogan, " Pike's Peak or Bust." Finally, in 1868, 
the railway placed its iron band across the continent. 

Parkman journeyed along this Oregon Trail for some 
six or seven hundred miles — about one-third of its length; 
then, as he sought adventure and not immigration, he 
turned south, and traveling along the foothills of the 
Colorado Rockies till he reached that great highway of 
the southern plains, the Santa Fe Trail, followed it back 
to civilization. The Oregon Trail, as we have just seen, 
was the path of the immigrant; the Santa Fe was the 
track of the trader. The former extended practically two 
thousand miles and involved a journey of four or five 
months; while the latter, with its seven hundred miles, 
was usually traversed in six or seven weeks. 



The Oregon Trail xv 

Starting alike from Independence, the two routes coin- 
cided for the first two days' journey west of the Missouri ; 
then the Santa Fe Trail branched to the southwest. Near 
the present Fort Dodge, Kansas, it divided, one road fol- 
lowing the Arkansas River up to Fort Bent, Colorado, 
and thence south to Las Vegas, and finally to Santa Fe ; 
while the other branch crossed the Arkansas and bore 
directly to Las Vegas. In 1822 the first large caravan 
brought its calicos and linens, its sugar, coffee, and hard- 
ware to the New Mexican capital and returned safely 
with furs and wool, horses and mules, sacks of gold and 
bars of silver. But even when the annual commerce had 
swelled to four or five hundred wagons, as in Parkman's 
time, the Indians were so dangerous that troops often 
escorted the caravan to the international borders on the 
Arkansas; and the traders regularly organized with a 
captain and subalterns, set guards at night, and formed, 
with their huge black wagons, a corral for their hundreds 
of horses, mules, and oxen. As a recompense for these 
dangers and hardships, however, the traders looked for- 
ward to heavy purses and to a season of dancing and 
gambling, bull baiting and cock fighting, within the white 
adobe walls of Santa Fe. 

During the Mexican War this trail became a great mili- 
tary highway. Parkman was already on the plains when 
war was declared, May 13, 1846; and on his return met 
along the trail detachments of General Kearny's army, 
marching from Fort Leavenworth, on the Missouri, to 
Bent's Fort, on the upper Arkansas, whence they pro- 
ceeded against Santa Fe, Northern Mexico, and Cali- 
fornia. After Santa Fe had come under the Stars and 
Stripes, this commerce of the prairies grew by leaps and 
bounds, reaching its height about i860. But the prairie 
schooner and stagecoach were doomed by the locomotive; 
in 1872 the railway was completed; and to-day only a few 
ruts remain to mark this famous trail of the trader. 



^ 



/7 



DESCRIPTIVE BIBLIOGRAPHY 

(i) C. H. Farnham, Life of Francis Parkman, Litt 
Brown, and Co., Boston, 1901. An excellent study of Par 
man's life and character by one who knew him well. 

(2) H. D. Sedgwick, Francis Parkman, Houghton Miffl 
Company, Boston, 1904. Cleverly written and especial 
valuable for the study of Parkman's earlier years. 

(3) Francis Parkman, Works, Frontenac Edition, 
vols., Little, Brown, and Co., Boston, 1910. 

• (4) Washington Irving, Astoria, G. P. Putnam's Soi 
New York, n. d. The account of the establishment of t 
American trading post at the mouth of the Columbia. 

! (5) Washington Irving, Adventures of Captain Bonn 
ville, G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, n. d. The journe 
of a pioneer of the Oregon Trail. 

(6) R. G. Thwaites, editxjr, Early Western Travels, 17^ 
1846, Vols. I-XXXII, Arthur H. Clark Co., Cleveland, 19c 
1907. A collection of reprints of rare volumes of eai 
western life and travel. The most valuable for the stude 
of Parkman are the following: Vols. XIX-XX, J. Greg 
Commerce of the Prairies (1831-1839). A vivid picture 
the Santa Fe trail. Vols. XXVIII-XXIX, T. J. Farnha 
Travels in the Great Western Prairies (1839). Vol. XX 
Joel Palmer, Journal of Travels Over the Rocky Mountai 
(1845-1846). Interesting and valuable from cover to cov 
Vol. XXV, " Compnsing the series of original paintings 
Charles Bodmer to illustrate Maximilian, Prince of Wie( 
Travels in the Interior of North America, 1832-1834." 

(7) George P. Harrison, Westward Extension, 1845-18, 
Harper and Brothers, New York, 1906. 



Descriptive Bibliography xvii 

(8) H. M. Chittenden, The American Fur Trade of the \ c- 
Far West, 3 vols., Francis P. Harper, New York, 1902. . A f . ''^^ 
storehouse of rehable information in nearly every phase of \ ^^ 
early western life in the land of the Oregon Trail. Vol. '' 

III contains an excellent large-sized map. 

(9) Frederick S. Dellenbaugh, Breaking the Wilderness, 
G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, 1905. Trustworthy, very 
readable, and well illustrated. 

(10) F. L. Paxsoh, The Last American Frontier, The 
Macmillan Company, New York, 1910. No student or teacher 
of The Oregon Trail should neglect this book. 




THE OREGON TRAIL 



AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION 

The journey which the following narrative describes 
was undertaken on the writer's part with a view of study- 
ing the manners and character of Indians in their primi- 
tive state. Although in the chapters which relate to them, 
he has only attempted to sketch those features of their 
wild and picturesque life which fell, in the present in- 
stance, under his own eye, yet in doing so he has con- 
stantly aimed to leave an impression of their character 
correct as far as it goes. In justifying his claim to 
accuracy on this point, it is hardly necessary to advert 
to the representations given by poets and novelists, which, 
for the most part, are mere creations of fancy. The 
Indian is certainly entitled to a high rank among savages, 
but his good qualities are not those of an Uncas or an 
Outalissi. 

Boston, February 15, 1849. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



CHAPTER I 

THE FRONTIER 

"Away, away from men and towns 
To the silent wilderness." — Shelley. 

Last spring, 1846, was a busy season in the city of 
St. Louis. Not only were emigrants from every part of 
the country preparing for the journey to Oregon and 
California, but an unusual number of traders were mak- 
ing ready their wagons and outfits for Santa Fe. Many 5 
of the emigrants, especially of those bound for California, 
were persons of wealth and standing. The hotels were 
crowded, and the gunsmiths and saddlers were kept con- 
stantly at work in providing arms and equipments for 
the different parties of travellers. Almost every day 10 
steamboats were leaving the levee and passing up the 
Missouri, crowded with passengers on their way to the 
frontier. 

In one of these, the " Radnor," since snagged and lost, 
my friend and relative, Quincy A. Shaw, and myself, left 15 
St. Louis on the twenty-eighth of April, on a tour of curi- 
osity and amusement to the Rocky Mountains. The boat 
was loaded until the water broke alternately over her 
guards. Her upper deck was covered with large wagons 
of a peculiar form for the Santa Fe trade, and her hold 20 
was crammed with goods for the same destination. There 
were also the equipments and provisions of a party of 
Oregon emigrants, a band of mules and horses, piles of 

3 



4 The Oregon Trail 

saddles and harness, and a multitude of nondescript ar- 
ticles indispensable on the prairies. Almost hidden in this 
medley one might have seen a small French cart, of the 
sort very appropriately called a " mule-killer " beyond the 
5 frontiers, and not far distant a tent, together with a 
miscellaneous assortment of boxes and barrels. The 
whole equipage was far from prepossessing in its appear- 
ance; yet, such as it was, it was destined to a long and 
arduous journey, on which the persevering reader will 

10 accompany it. 

The passengers on board the " Radnor " corresponded 
with her freight. In her cabin were Santa Fe traders, 
gamblers, speculators, and adventurers of various de- 
scriptions, and her steerage was crowded with Oregon 

15 emigrants, " mountain men," negroes, and a party of 
Kansas Indians, who had been on a visit to St. Louis. 

Thus laden, the boat struggled upward for seven or 
eight days against the rapid current of the Missouri, grat- 
ing upon snags, and hanging for two or three hours at 

20 a time upon sand-bars. We entered the mouth of the 
Missouri in a drizzling rain, but the weather soon became 
clear, and showed distinctly the broad and turbid river, 
with its eddies, its sand-bars, its ragged islands, and for- 
est-covered shores. The Missouri is constantly changing 

25 its course, — wearing away its bank on one side, while it 
forms new ones on the other. Its channel is shifting con- 
tinually. Islands are formed and then washed away; and 
while the old forests on one side are undermined and swept 
off, a young growth springs up from the new soil upon the 

30 other. With all these changes, the water is so charged 
with mud and sand that it is perfectly opaque, and in a 
few minutes deposits a sediment an inch thick in the bot- 
tom of a tumbler. The river was now high; but when 
we descended in the autumn it was fallen very low, and 

35 all the secrets of its treacherous shallows were exposed 
to view. It was frightful to see the dead and broken 
trees, thick-set as a military abatis, firmly imbedded in the 
sand, and all pointing down stream, ready to impale any 



The Frontier 5 

unhappy steamboat that at high water should pass over 
that dangerous ground. 

In five or six days v^^e began to see signs of the great 
western movement that was then taking place. Parties of 
emigrants, with their tents and wagons, would be en- 5 
camped on open spots near the bank, on their way to the 
common rendezvous at Independence. On a rainy day, 
ne^r sunset, we reached the landing of this place, which 
is situated some miles from the river, on the extreme 
frontier of Missouri. The scene was characteristic, for 10 
here were represented at one view the most remarkable 
features of this wild and enterprising region. On the 
muddy shore stood some thirty or forty dark, slavish- 
looking Spaniards, gazing stupidly out from beneath their 
broad hats. They were attached to one of the Santa Fe 15 
companies, whose wagons were crowded together on the 
banks above. In the midst of these, crouching over a 
smouldering fire, was a group of Indians belonging to a 
remote Mexican tribe. One or two French hunters from 
the mountains, with their long hair and buckskin dresses, 20 
were looking at the boat; and, seated on a log close at 
hand, were three men with rifles lying across their knees. 
The foremost of these, a tall, strong figure, with a clear 
blue eye and an open, intelligent face, might very well 
represent that race of restless and intrepid pioneers whose 25 
axes and rifles have opened a path from the Alleghanies 
to the western prairies. He was on his way to Oregon, 
probably a more congenial field to him than any that now 
remained on this side the great plains. 

Early on the next morning we reached Kansas, about 30 
five hundred miles from the mouth of the Missouri. Here 
we landed, and leaving our equipments in charge of my 
good friend Colonel Chick, whose log-house was the sub- 
stitute for a tavern, we set out in a wagon for West- 
port, where we hoped to procure mules and horses for 35 
the journey. 

It was a remarkably fresh and beautiful May morning. 
The rich and luxuriant woods through which the miser- 



6 The Oregon Trail 

able road conducted us were lighted by the bright sun- 
shine and enlivened by a multitude of birds. We over- 
took on the way our late fellow-travellers, the Kansas 
Indians, who, adorned with all their finery, were proceed- 
5 ing homeward at a round pace ; and whatever they might 
have seemed on board the boat, they made a very strik- 
ing and picturesque feature in the forest landscape. 

[ Westport was full of Indians, whose little shaggy ponies 

I were tied by dozens along the houses and fences. Sacs 

10 and Foxes, with shaved heads and painted faces, Sha- 
wanoes and Delawares, fluttering in calico frocks and 
turbans, Wyandots dressed like white men, and a few 
wretched Kansas wrapped in old blankets, were strolling 
about the streets or lounging in and out of the shops and 

15 houses. 

As I stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a remarkable 
looking person coming up the street. He had a ruddy 
face, garnished with the stumps of a bristly red beard 
and moustache; on one side of his head was a round cap 

20 with a knob at the top, such as Scottish laborers some- 
times wear; his coat was of a nondescript form, and made 
of a gray Scotch plaid, with the fringes hanging all about 
it; he wore pantaloons of coarse homespun, and hobnailed 
shoes; and, to complete his equipment, a little black pipe 

25 was stuck in one corner of his mouth. In this curious 
attire, I recognized Captain C. of the British army, who, 
with his brother and Mr. R., an English gentleman, was 
bound on a hunting expedition across the continent. I 
had seen the Captain and his companions at St. Louis. 

30 They had now been for some time at Westport, making 
preparations for their departure, and waiting for a re-in- 
forcement, since they were too few in number to attempt 
it alone. They might, it is true, have joined some of the 
parties of emigrants who were on the point of setting out 

35 for Oregon and California; but they professed great dis- 
inclination to have any connection with the '' Kentucky 
fellows." 
The Captain now urged it upon us that we should join 



The Frontier 7 

forces and proceed to the mountains in company. Feeling 
no greater partiality for the society of the emigrants than 
they did, we thought the arrangement an advantageous 
one, and consented to it. Our future fellow-travellers 
had installed themselves in a little log-house, where we 5 
found them all surrounded by saddles, harness, guns, 
pistols, telescopes, knives, and, in short, their complete 
appointments for the prairie. R., who professed a taste 
for natural history, sat at a table stuffing a woodpecker; 
the brother of the Captain, who was an Irishman, was 10 
splicing a trail-rope on the floor, as he had been an ama- \ 
teur sailor. The Captain pointed out, with much compla- \^ 
cency, the different articles of their outfit. " You see," i 
said he, " that we are all old travellers. I am convinced \ 
that no party ever went upon the prairie better pro- 15 
vided." The hunter whom they had employed, a surly 
looking Canadian, named Sorel, and their muleteer, an 
American from St. Louis, were lounging about the build- 
ing. In a little log-stable close at hand were their horses 
and mules, selected by the Captain, who was an excellent 
judge. 

The alliance entered into, we left them to complete 
their arrangements, while we pushed our own to all con- 
venient speed. The emigrants, for whom our friends 
professed such contempt, were encamped on the prairie 25 
about eight or ten miles distant, to the number of a 
thousand or more, and new parties were constantly pass- 
ing out from Independence to join them. They were in 
great confusion, holding meetings, passing resolutions, 
and drawing up regulations, but unable to unite in the 30 
choice of leaders to conduct them across the prairie. 
Being at leisure one day, I rode over to Independence. 
The town was crowded. A multitude of shops had sprung 
up to furnish the emigrants and Santa Fe traders with 
necessaries for their journey; and there was an incessant 35 
hammering and banging from a dozen blacksmiths' sheds, 
where the heavy wagons were being repaired, and the 
horses and oxen shod. The streets were thronged with 



A 



8 The Oregon Trail 

men, horses, and mules. While I was in the town, a train 
of emigrant wagons from Illinois passed through, to join 
the camp on the prairie, and stopped in the principal 
street. A multitude of healthy children's faces were 
5 peeping out from under the covers of the wagons. Here 
and there a buxom damsel was seated on horseback, 
holding over her sunburnt face an old umbrella or a 
parasol, once gaudy enough, but now miserably faded. 
The men, very sober-looking countrymen, stood about 

10 their oxen ; and as I passed I noticed three old fellows, 
who, with their long whips in their hands, were zealously 
discussing the doctrine of regeneration. The emigrants, 
however, are not all of this stamp. Among them are some 
of the vilest outcasts in the country. I have often per- 

15 plexed myself to divine the various motives that give 
impulse to this strange migration; but whatever they 
may be, whether an insane hope of a better condition in 
life, or a desire of shaking off restraints of law and 
society, or mere restlessness, certain it is that multitudes 

20 bitterly repent the journey, and after they have reached 

the land of promise, are happy enough to escape from it. 

In the course of seven or eight days we had brought 

our preparations near to a close. Meanwhile our friends 

had completed theirs, and becoming tired of Westport, 

25 they told us that they would set out in advance, and wait 
at the crossing of the Kansas till we should come up. 
Accordingly R. and the muleteer went forward with the 
wagon and tent, while the Captain and his brother, 
together with Sorel and a trapper named Boisverd, who 

30 had joined them, followed with the band of horses. The 
commencement of the journey was ominous, for the 
Captain was scarcely a mile from Westport, riding along 
in state at the head of his party, leading his intended 
buffalo horse by a rope, when a tremendous thunder- 

35 stt)rm came on, and drenched them all to the skin. They 
hurried on to reach the place, about seven miles off, where 
R. was to have had the camp in readiness to receive them. 
But this prudent person, when he saw the storm ap- 



The Frontier 9 

proaching, had selected a sheltered glade in the woods, 
where he pitched his tent, and was sipping a comfortable 
cup of coffee, while the Captain galloped for miles beyond 
through the rain to look for him. At length the storm 
cleared away, and the sharp-eyed trapper succeeded in 5 
discovering his tent. R. had by this time finished his 
coffee, and was seated on a buffalo-robe smoking his pipe. 
The Captain was one of the most easy-tempered men in 
existence, so he bore his ill-luck with great composure, 
shared the dregs of the coffee with his brother, and lay 10 
down to sleep in his wet clothes. 

We ourselves had our share of the deluge. We were 
leading a pair of mules to Kansas when the storm broke. 
Such sharp and incessant flashes of lightning, such stun- 
ning and continuous thunder, I had never Jicnown before. 15 
The woods were completely obscured by the diagonal 
sheets of rain that fell with a heavy roar, and rose in 
spray from the ground; and the streams rose so rapidly 
that we could hardly ford them. At length, looming 
through the rain, we saw the log-house of Colonel Chick, "^0 ^ 
who received us with his usual bland hospitality; while^ ^/ 
his wife, who, though a little soured and stiffened by too i ' 
freiiuent_attendance on camp-meetings, was not behind 
him in hospitable feeling, supplied us with the means of 
repairing our drenched and bedraggled condition. The 25 
storm clearing away at about sunset, opened a noble pros- 
pect from the porch of the colonel's house, which stands 
upon a high hill. The sun streamed from the breaking 
clouds upon the swift and angry Missouri, and on the 
immense expanse of luxuriant forest that stretched from 30 
its banks back to the distant bluffs. 

Returning on the next day to Westport, we received 
a message from the Captain, who had ridden back to 
deliver it in person, but finding that we were in Kansas, 
had intrusted it with an acquaintance of his named Vogel, 35 
who kept a small grocery and liquor shop. Whiskey, 
by the way, circulates more freely in Westport than is 
altogether safe in a place where every man carries a 



lo The Oregon Trail 

loaded pistol in his pocket. As we passed this establish- 
ment, we saw Vogel's broad German face and knavish- 
looking eyes thrust from his door. He said he had some- 
thing to tell us, and invited us to take a dram. Neither 
5 his liquor nor his message was very palatable. The Cap- 
tain had returned to give us notice that R., who assumed 
the direction of his party, had determined upon another 
route from that agreed upon between us; and instead of 
taking the course of the traders, to pass northward by 

10 Fort Leavenworth, and follow the path marked out by the 
dragoons in their expedition of last summer. To adopt 
such a plan without consulting us, we looked upon as a 
very high-landed proceeding; but, suppressing our dis- 
satisfaction as well as we could, we made up our minds to 

15 join them at Fort Leavenworth, where they were to wait 
for us. 

Accordingly, our preparation being now complete, we 
attempted one fine morning to commence our journey. 
The first step was an unfortunate one. No sooner were 

20 our animals put in harness than the shaft-mule reared 
and plunged, burst ropes and straps, and nearly flung the 
cart into the Missouri. Finding her wholly uncontrol- 
lable, we exchanged her for another, with which we were 
furnished by our friend Mr. Boone of Westport, a grand- 

25 son of Daniel Boone, the pioneer. This foretaste of 
prairie experience was very soon followed by another. 
Westport was scarcely out of sight, when we encoun- 
tered a deep muddy gully, of a species that afterward 
became but too familiar to us; and here for the space of 

30 an hour or more, the cart stuck fast. 



CHAPTER II 

BREAKING THE ICE 

" Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, 
And marvel men should quit their easy chair, 
The weary way and long long league to trace ; — 

Oh there is sweetness in the prairie air, 
And life that bloated ease can never hope to share." 

Childe Harold. 

Both Shav^ and myself were tolerably inured to the 
vicissitudes of travelling. We had experienced them 
under various forms, and a birch canoe v^as as familiar 
to us as a steamboat. The restlessness, the love of v^ilds 
and hatred of cities, natural perhaps in early years to 5 
every unperverted son of Adam, wsls not our only motive 
for undertaking the present journey. My companion 
hoped to shake off the effects of a disorder that had im- 
paired a constitution originally hardy and robust; and I 
was anxious to pursue some inquiries relative to the char- 10 
acter and usages of the remote Indian nations, being 
already familiar with many of the border tribes. 

Emerging from the mud-hole where we last took leave 
of the reader, we pursued our way for some time along 
the narrow track, in the checkered sunshine and shadow 15 
of the woods, till at length, issuing forth into the broad 
light, we left behind us the farthest outskirts of that great 
forest that once spread unbroken from the western plains 
to the shore of the Atlantic. Looking over an intervening 
belt of shrubbery, we saw the green, ocean-like expanse 20 
of prairie, stretching swell over swell to the horizon. 

It was a mild, calm spring day ; a day when one is more 
disposed to musing and reverie than to action, and the 
softest part of his nature is apt to gain the ascendency. I 
rode in advance of the party as we passed through the 25 

II 



12 The Oregon Trail 

shrubbery; and as a nook of green grass offered a strong 
temptation, I dismounted and lay down there. All the 
trees and saplings were in flower, or budding into fresh 
leaf; the red clusters of the maple-blossoms and the rich 
5 flowers of the Indian apple were there in profusion; and 
I was half inclined to regret leaving behind the land of 
gardens for the rude and stern scenes of the prairie and 
the mountains. 

Meanwhile the party came in sight from out of the 

10 bushes. Foremost rode Henry Chatillon, our guide and 
hunter, a fine athletic figure, mounted on a hardy gray 
Wyandot pony. He wore a white blanket-coat, a broad 
hat of felt, moccasins, and pantaloons of deer-skin, orna- 
mented along the seams with rows of long fringes. His 

15 knife was stuck in his belt ; his bullet-pouch and powder- 
horn hung at his side, and his rifle lay before him, resting 
against the high pommel of his saddle, which, like all his 
equipments, had seen hard service, and was much the 
worse for wear. Shaw followed close, mounted on a little 

20 sorrel horse, and leading a larger animal by a rope. His 
outfit, which resembled mine, had been provided with a 
view to use rather than ornament. It consisted of a plain, 
black Spanish saddle, with holsters of heavy pistols, a 
blanket rolled up behind it, and the trail-rope attached to 

25 his horse's neck hanging coiled in front. He carried a 
double-barrelled smooth-bore, while I boasted a rifle of 
some fifteen pounds' weight. At that time our attire, 
though far from elegant, bore some marks of civilization, 
and offered a very favorable contrast to the inimitable 

30 shabbiness of our appearance on the return journey. A 
red flannel shirt, belted around the waist like a frock, then 
constituted our upper garment; moccasins had supplanted 
our failing boots; and the remaining essential portion of 
our attire consisted of an extraordinary article, manu- 

35 factured by a squaw out of smoked buckskin. Our mule- 
teer, Deslauriers, brought up the rear with his cart, wad- 
ing ankle-deep in the mud, alternately puffing at his pipe 
and ejaculating in his prairie patois: " Sacrc enfant de 



Breaking the Ice 13 

garce ! " as CMie O'f the mules would seem to recoil before 
some abyss of unusual profundity. The cart was of the 
kind that one may see by scores around the market-place in 
Montreal, and had a white covering to protect the articles 
within. These were our provisions and a tent, with am- 5 
munition, blankets, and presents for the Indians. 

We were in all four men with eight animals; for be- 
sides the spare horses led by Shaw and myself, an addi- 
tional mule was driven along with us as a reserve in case 
of accident. 10 

After this summing up of our forces, it may not be 
amiss to glance at the characters of the two men w^ho 
accompanied us. 

Deslauriers was a Canadian, with all the characteristics 
of the true Jean Baptiste. Neither fatigue, exposure, nor 15 
hard labor could ever impair his cheerfulness and gayety, 
or his obsequious politeness to his bourgeois; and when 
night came, he would sit down by the fire, smoke his pipe, 
and tell stories with the utmost contentment. In fact, the 
prairie was his congenial element. Henry Chatillon was 20 
of a different stamp. When we were at St. Louis, several 
of the gentlemen of the Fur Company had kindly offered 
to procure for us a hunter and guide suited for our pur- 
poses, and on coming one afternoon to the office, we found 
there a tall and exceedingly well-dressed man, with a face 25 
so open and frank that it attracted our notice at once. 
We were surprised at being told that it was he who wished 
to guide us to the mountains. He was born in a little 
French town near St. Louis, and from the age of fifteen 
years had been constantly in the neighborhood of the 30 
Rocky Mountains, employed for the most part by the 
Company, to supply their forts with buffalo-meat. As a 
hunter he had but one rival in the whole region, a man 
named Cimoneau, with whom, to the honor of both of 
them, he was on terms of the closest friendship. He had 35 
arrived at St. Louis the day before from the mountains, 
where he had remained for four years; and he now only 
asked to go and spend a day with his mother, before set- 



14 The Oregon Trail 

ting out on another expedition. His age was about thirty; 
he was six feet high, and very powerfully and gracefully 
moulded. The prairies had been his school; he could 
neither read nor write, but he had a natural refinement 
5 and delicacy of mind, such as is very rarely found even in 
women. His manly face was a perfect mirror of upright- 
ness, simplicity, and kindness of heart; he had, moreover, 
a keen perception of character, and a tact that would pre- 
serve him from flagrant error in any society. Henry had 

10 not the restless energy of an Anglo-American. He was 
content to take things as he found them; and his chief 
fault arose from an excess of easy generosity, impelling 
him to give away too profusely ever to thrive in the world. 
Yet it was commonly remarked of him, that whatever he 

15 might choose to do with what belonged to himself, the 
property of others was always safe in his hands. His 
bravery was as much celebrated in the mountains as his 
skill in hunting; but it is characteristic of him that in a 
country where the rifle is the chief arbiter between man 

20 and man, Henry was very seldom involved in quarrels. 
Once or twice, indeed, his quiet good nature had been mis- 
taken and presumed upon, but the consequences of the 
error were so formidable that no one was ever known to 
repeat it. No better evidence of the intrepidity of his tem- 

25 per could be wished than the common report that he had 
killed more than thirty grizzly bears. He was a proof 
of what unaided nature will sometimes do. I have never, 
in the city or in the wilderness, met a better man than 
my noble and true-hearted friend, Henry Chatillon. 

30 We were soon free of the woods and bushes, and fairly 
upon the broad prairie. Now and then a Shawanoe passed 
us, riding his little shaggy pony at a " lope " ; his calico 
shirt, his gaudy sash, and the gay handkerchief bound 
around his snaky hair, fluttering in the wind. At noon 

35 we stopped to rest not far from a little creek, replete 
with frogs and young turtles. There had been an Indian 
encampment at the place, and the framework of their 
lodges still remained, enabling us very easily to gain a 



Breaking the Ice 15 

shelter from the sun by merely spreading one or two 
blankets over them. Thus shaded, we sat upon our sad- 
dles, and Shaw for the first time lighted his favorite 
Indian pipe; while Deslauriers was squatted over a hot 
bed of coals, shading his eyes with one hand, and hold- 5 
ing a little stick in the other with which he regulated the 
hissing contents of the frying-pan. The horses were 
turned to feed among the scattered bushes of a low, oozy 
meadow. A drowsy spring-like sultriness pervaded the 
air, and the voices of ten thousand young frogs and in- 10 
sects, just awakened into life, rose in varied chorus from 
the creek and the meadows. 

Scarcely were we seated when a visitor approached. 
This was an old Kansas Indian; a man of distinction, if 
one might judge from his dress. His head was shaved 15 
and painted red, and from the tuft of hair remaining on 
the crown dangled several eagle's feathers, and the tails 
of two or three rattlesnakes. His cheeks, too, were daubed 
with vermilion; his ears were adorned with green glass 
pendants; a collar of grizzly bears' claws surrounded his 20 
neck, and several large necklaces of wampum hung on 
his breast. Having shaken us by the hand with a cordial 
grunt of salutation, the old man, dropping his red blanket 
from his shoulders, sat down cross-legged on the ground. 
In the absence of liquor, we offered him a cup of sweet- 25 
ened water, at which he ejaculated "Good!" and was 
beginning to tell us how great a man he was, and how 
many Pawnees he had killed, when suddenly a motley 
concourse appeared wading across the creek toward us. 
They filed past in rapid succession, men, women, and 30 
children; some were on horseback, some on foot, but all 
were alike squalid and wretched. Old squaws, mounted 
astride of shaggy, meagre little ponies, with perhaps one 
or two snake-eyed children seated behind them, clinging 
to their tattered blankets ; tall lank young men on foot, 35 
with bows and arrows in their hands; and girls whose 
native ugliness not all the charms of glass beads and scar- 
let cloth could disguise, made up the procession ; although 



1 6 The Oregon Trail 

here and there was a man who, like our visitor, seemed to 
hold some rank in this respectable community. They 
were the dregs of the Kansas nation, who, while their 
betters were gone to hunt the buffalo, had left the village 
5 on a begging expedition to Westport. 

When this ragamuffin horde had passed, we caught our 
horses, saddled, harnessed, and resumed our journey. 
Fording the creek, the low roofs of a number of rude 
buildings appeared, rising from a cluster of groves and 

10 woods on the left; and riding up through a long lane, 
amid a profusion of wild roses and early spring flowers, 
we found the log-church and school-houses belonging to 
the Methodist Shawanoe Mission. The Indians were on 
the point of gathering to a religious meeting. Some scores 

15 of them, tall men in half-civilized dress, were seated on 
wooden benches under the trees; while their horses were 
tied to the sheds and fences. Their chief, Parks, a re- 
markably large and athletic man, was just arrived from 
Westport, where he owns a trading establishment. Be- 

20 sides this, he has a fine farm and a considerable number 
of slaves. Indeed the Shawanoes have made greater prog- 
ress in agriculture than any other tribe on the Missouri 
frontier ; and both in appearance and in character form a 
marked contrast to our late acquaintance, the Kansas. 

25 A few hours' ride brought us to the banks of the river 
Kansas. Traversing the woods that lined it, and plough- 
ing through the deep sand, we encamped not far from the 
bank, at the Lower Delaware crossing. Our tent was 
erected for the first time on a meadow close to the woods, 

30 and the camp preparations being complete, we began to 
think of supper. An old Delaware woman, of some three 
hundred pounds' weight, sat in the porch of a little log- 
house, close to the water, and a very pretty half-breed girl 
was engaged, under her superintendence, in feeding a 

35 large flock of turkeys that were fluttering and gobbling 
about the door. But no offers of money, or even of to- 
bacco, could induce her to part with one of her favorites; 
so I took my rifle to see if the woods or the river could 



Breaking the Ice 17 

furnish us anything. A multitude of quails were plain- 
tively whistling in the woods and meadows; but nothing 
appropriate to the rifle was to be seen, except three buz- 
zards, seated in the spectral limbs of an old dead syca- 
more, that thrust itself out over the river from the dense 5 
sunny wall of fresh foliage. Their ugly heads were drawn 
down between their shoulders, and they seemed to lux- 
uriate in the soft sunshine that was pouring from the 
west. As they offered no epicurean temptations, I re- 
frained from disturbing their enjoyment; but contented 10 
myself with admiring the calm beauty of the sunset; for 
the river, eddying swiftly in deep purple shadows between 
the impending woods, formed a wild but tranquilizing 
scene. 

When I returned to the camp, I found Shaw and an old 15 
Indian seated on the ground in close conference, passing 
the pipe between them. The old man was explaining that 
he loved the whites, and had an especial partiality for to- 
bacco. Deslauriers was arranging upon the ground our 
service of tin cups and plates ; and as other viands were 20 
not to be had, he set before us a repast of biscuit and 
bacon, and a large pot of coffee. Unsheathing our knives, 
we attacked it, disposed of the greater part, and tossed the 
residue to the Indian. Meanwhile our horses, now hob- 
bled for the first time, stood among the trees, with their 25 
forelegs tied together, in great disgust and astonishment. 
They seemed by no means to relish this foretaste of what 
was before them. Mine, in particular, had conceived a 
mortal aversion to the prairie life. One of them, christened 
Hendrick, an animal whose strength and hardihood were 30 
his only merits, and who yielded to nothing but the cogent 
arguments of the whip, looked toward us with an indig- 
nant countenance, as if he meditated avenging his wrongs 
with a kick. The other, Pontiac, a good horse, though of 
plebeian lineage, stood with his head drooping and his 35 
mane hanging about his eyes, with the grieved and sulky 
air of a lubberly boy sent off to school. Poor Pontiac! 
his forebodings were but too just; for when I last heard 



1 8 The Oregon Trail 

from him, he was under the lash of an Ogillallah brave, on 
a war-party against the Crows. 

As it grew dark, and the voices of the whippoorwills 
succeeded the whistle of the quails, we removed our 
5 saddles to the tent to serve as pillows, spread our blankets 
upon the ground, and prepared to bivouac for the first 
time that season. Each man selected the place in the tent 
which he was to occupy for the journey. To Deslauriers, 
however, was assigned the cart, into which he could creep 

10 in wet weather, and find a much better shelter than his 
bourgeois enjoyed in the tent. 

The river Kansas at this point forms the boundary-line 
between the country of the Shawanoes and that of the 
Delawares. We crossed it on the following day, rafting 

15 over our horses and equipage with much difficulty, and 
unloading our cart in order to make our way up the steep 
ascent on the farther bank. It was Sunday morning, 
warm, tranquil, and bright; and a perfect stillness reigned 
over the rough inclosures and neglected fields of the Dela- 

20 wares, except the ceaseless hum and chirruping of myr- 
iads of insects. Now and then an Indian rode past on his 
way to the meeting-house, or, through the dilapidated 
entrance of some shattered log-house, an old woman 
might be discerned, enjoying all the luxury of idleness. 

25 There was no village bell, for the Delawares have none; 
and yet upon that forlorn and rude settlement was the 
same spirit of Sabbath repose and tranquillity as in some 
little New England village among the mountains of New 
Hampshire or the Vermont woods. 

30 Having at present no leisure for such reflections, we 
pursued our journey. A military road led from this point 
to Fort Leavenworth, and for many miles the farms and 
cabins of the Delawares were scattered at short intervals 
on either hand. The little rude structures of logs, erected 

35 usually on the borders of a tract of woods, made a pic- 
turesque feature in the landscape. But the scenery needed 
no foreign aid. Nature had done enough for it; and the 
alternation of rich green prairies and groves that stood in 



Breaking the Ice 19 

clusters, or lined the banks of the numerous little streams, 
had all the softened and polished beauty of a region that 
has been for centuries under the hand of man. At that 
early season, too, it was in the height of its freshness and 
luxuriance. The woods were flushed with the red buds of 5 
the maple ; there were frequent flowering shrubs unknown 
in the East; and the green swells of the prairie were 
thickly studded with blossoms. 

Encamping near a spring, by the side of a hill, we 
resumed our journey in the morning, and early in the 10 
afternoon had arrived within a few miles of Fort Leaven- 
worth. The road crossed a stream densely bordered with 
trees, and running in the bottom of a deep woody hollow. 
We were about to descend into it, when a wild and con- 
fused procession appeared, passing through the water 15 
below, and coming up the steep ascent toward us. We 
stopped to let them pass. They were Delawares, just 
returned from a hunting expedition. All, both men and 
women, were mounted on horseback, and drove along with 
them a considerable number of pack-mules, laden with the 20 
furs they had taken, together with the buffalo-robes, 
kettles, and other articles of their travelling equipment, 
which, as well as their clothing and their weapons, had a 
worn and dingy aspect, as if they had seen hard service 
of late. At the rear of the party was an old man, who, as 25 
he came up, stopped his horse to speak to us. He rode a 
little tough, shaggy pony, with mane and tail well knotted 
with burs, and a rusty Spanish bit in its mouth, to which, 
by way of reins, was attached a string of raw hide. His 
saddle, robbed probably from a Mexican, had no covering, 30 
being merely a tree of the Spanish form, with a piece of 
grizzly-bear's skin laid over it, a pair of rude wooden stir- 
rups attached, and in the absence of girth, a thong of hide 
passing around the horse's belly. The rider's dark fea- 
tures and keen snaky eye were unequivocally Indian. He 35 
wore a buckskin frock, which, like his fringed leggings, 
was well polished and blackened by grease and long 
service; and an old handkerchief was tied around his 



20 The Oregon Trail 

head. Resting on the saddle before him lay his rifle, a 
weapon in the use of which the Delawares are skilful, 
though, from its weight, the distant prairie Indians are 
too lazy to carry it. 
5 "Who's your chief?" he immediately inquired. 

Henry Chatillon pointed to us. The old Delaware fixed 
his eyes intently upon us for a moment, and then senten- 
tiously remarked: 

" No good ! Too young ! " With this flattering com- 

10 pliment he left us, and rode after his people. 

This tribe, the Delawares, once the peaceful allies of 
William Penn, the tributaries of the conquering Iroquois, 
are now the most adventurous and dreaded warriors 
upon the prairies. They make war upon remote tribes, the 

15 very names of which were unknown to their fathers in 
their ancient seats in Pennsylvania; and they push these 
new quarrels with true Indian rancor, sending out their 
little war-parties as far as the Rocky Mountains and into 
the Mexican territories. Their neighbors and former 

20 confederates, the Shawanoes, who are tolerable farmers, 
are in a prosperous condition; but the Delawares dwindle 
every year, from the number of men lost in their warlike 
expeditions. 

Soon after leaving this party, we saw, stretching on 

25 the right, the forests that follow the course of the Mis- 
souri, and the deep woody channel through which at this 
point it runs. At a distance in front were the white bar- 
racks of Fort Leavenworth, just visible through the trees 
upon an eminence above a bend of the river. A wide 

30 green meadow, as level as a lake, lay between us and the 
Missouri, and upon this, close to a line of trees that bor- 
dered a little brook, stood the tent of the Captain and his 
companions, with their horses feeding around it ; but they 
themselves were invisible. Wright, their muleteer, was 

35 there, seated on the tongue of the wagon, repairing his 
harness. Boisverd stood cleaning his rifle at the door of 
the tent, and Sorel lounged idly about. On closer exami- 
nation, however, we discovered the Captain's brother, 



Breaking the Ice 21 

Jack, sitting in the tent, at his old occupation of splicing 
trail-ropes. He welcomed us in his broad Irish brogue, 
and said that his brother was fishing in the river, and R. 
gone to the garrison. They returned before sunset. 
Meanwhile we erected our own tent not far off, and after 5 
supper a council was held, in which it was resolved to 
remain one day at Fort Leavenworth, and on the next to 
bid a final adieu to the frontier; or in the phraseology of 
the region, to " jump off." Our deliberations were con- 
ducted by the ruddy light from a distant swell of the 10 
prairie, where the long dry grass of last summer was 
on fire. 



CHAPTER in 

FORT LEAVENWORTH 

" I've wandered wide and wandered far, 
But never have I met, 
In all this lovely western land, 
A spot more lovely yet." — Bryant. 

On the next morning we rode to Fort Leavenworth. 
Colonel (now General) Kearny, to whom I had had the 
honor of an introduction when at St. Louis, w^as just 
arrived, and received us at his quarters with the high-bred 
5 courtesy habitual to him. Fort Leavenworth is in fact 
no fort, being without defensive works, except two block- 
houses. No rumors of war had as yet disturbed its tran- 
quillity. In the square grassy area, surrounded by bar- 
racks and the quarters of the Officers, the men were pass- 

10 ing and repassing, or lounging among the trees ; although 
not many weeks afterward it presented a different scene; 
for here the very offscourings of the frontier were con- 
gregated, to be marshalled for the expedition against 
Santa Fe. 

15 Passing through the garrison, we rode toward the 
Kickapoo village, five or six miles beyond. The path, a 
rather dubious and uncertain one, led us along the ridge 
of high bluffs that border the Missouri; and by looking to 
the right or to the left we could enjoy a strange contrast 

20 of opposite scenery. On the left stretched the prairie, 
rising into swells and undulations, thickly sprinkled with 
groves, or gracefully expanding into wide grassy basins 
of miles in extent; while its curvatures, swelling against 
the horizon, were often surmounted by lines of sunny 

25 woods; a scene to which the freshness of the season and 
the peculiar mellowness of the atmosphere gave additional 

22 



Fort Leavenworth 23 

softness. Below us, on the right, was a tract of ragged 
and broken woods. We could look down on the summits 
of the trees, some living and some dead; some erect, others 
leaning at every angle, and others still piled in masses 
together by the passage of a hurricane. Beyond their 5 
extreme verge, the turbid waters of the Missouri were 
discernible through the boughs, rolling powerfully along 
at the foot of the woody declivities on its farther bank. 

The path soon after led inland; and, as we crossed an 
open meadow, we saw a cluster of buildings on a rising 10 
ground before us, with a crowd of people surrounding 
them. They were the storehouse, cottage, and stables of 
the Kickapoo trader's establishment. Just at that mo- 
ment, as it chanced, he was beset with half the Indians of 
the settlement. They had tied their wretched, neglected 15 
little ponies by dozens along the fences and out-houses, 
and were either lounging about the place or crowding into 
the trading-house. Here were faces of various colors; 
red, green, white, and black, curiously intermingled and 
disposed over the visage in a variety of patterns. Calico 20 
shirts, red and blue blankets, brass ear-rings, wampum 
necklaces, appeared in profusion. The trader was a blue- 
eyed, open-faced man, who neither in his manners nor his 
appearance betrayed any of the roughness of the fron- 
tier; though just at present he was obliged to keep a lynx 25 
eye on his suspicious customers, who, men and women, 
were climbing on his counter, and seating themselves 
among his boxes and bales. 

The village itself was not far off, and sufficiently illus- 
trated the condition of its unfortunate and self -abandoned 30 
occupants. Fancy to yourself a little swift stream, work- 
ing its devious way down a woody valley; sometimes 
wholly hidden under logs and fallen trees, sometimes issu- 
ing forth and spreading into a broad, clear pool ; and on its 
banks, in little nooks cleared away among the trees, minia- 35 
ture log-houses in utter ruin and neglect. A labyrinth of 
narrow, obstructed paths connected these habitations one 
with another. Sometimes we met a stray calf, a pig, or a 



24 The Oregon Trail 

pony, belonging to some of the villagers, who usually lay 
in the sun in front of their dwellings, and looked on us 
with cold, suspicious eyes as we approached. Farther on, 
in place of the log-huts of the Kickapoos, we found the 
5 pukwi lodges of their neighbors, the Pottawottomies, 
whose condition seemed no better than theirs. 

Growing tired at last, and exhausted by the excessive 
heat and sultriness of the day, we returned to our friend, 
the trader. By this time the crowd around him had dis- 

10 persed and left him at leisure. He invited us to his 
cottage, a little white-and-green building, in the style of 
the old French settlements, and ushered us into a neat, 
well-furnished room. The blinds were closed, and the heat 
and glare of the sun excluded; the room was as cool as a 

15 cavern. It was neatly carpeted, too, and furnished in a 
manner that we hardly expected on the frontier. The 
sofas, chairs, tables, and a well-filled book-case would not 
have disgraced an eastern city; though there were one 
or two little tokens that indicated the rather questionable 

20 civilization of the region. A pistol, loaded and capped, 
lay on the mantel-piece; and through the glass of the 
book-case, peeping above the works of John Milton, glit- 
tered the handle of a very mischievous-looking knife. 
Our host went out, and returned with iced water, 

25 glasses, and a bottle of excellent claret, a refreshment 
most welcome in the extreme heat of the day; and soon 
after appeared a merry, laughing woman, who must have 
been, a year or two before, a very rich and luxuriant speci- 
men of Creole beauty. She came to say that lunch was 

30 ready in the next room. Our hostess evidently lived on 
the sunny side of life, and troubled herself with none of 
its cares. She sat down and entertained us while we were 
at table with anecdotes of fishing-parties, frolics, and the 
officers at the fort. Taking leave at length of the hos- 

35 pitable trader and his friend, we rode back to the garrison. 

Shaw passed on to the camp, while I remained to call 

upon Colonel Kearny. I found him still at table. There 

sat our friend the Captain, in the same remarkable habili- 



Fort Leavenworth 25 

ments in which we saw him at Westport; the black pipe, 
however, being for the present laid aside. He dangled his 
little cap in his hand, and talked of steeple-chases, touch- 
ing occasionally upon his anticipated exploits in buffalo- 
hunting. There, too, was R., somewhat more elegantly 5 
attired. For the last time we tasted the luxuries of civili- 
zation, and drank adieus to it in wine good enough to make 
us almost regret the leave-taking. Then, mounting, we 
rode together to the camp, where everything was in readi- 
ness for departure on the morrow. 10 



CHAPTER IV 

"JUMPING OFF" 

"We forded the river and clomb the high hill, 
Never our steeds for a day stood still ; 
Whether we lay in the cave or the shed, 
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed; 
Whether we couched in our rough capote, 
On the rougher plank of our gliding boat, 
Or stretched on the sand, or our saddles spread 
As a pillow beneath the resting head. 

Fresh we woke upon the morrow ; 
All our thoughts and words had scope, 
We had health and we had hope. 

Toil and travel, but no sorrow." 

Siege of Corinth. 

The reader need not be told that John Bull never leaves 
home without encumbering himself with the greatest pos- 
sible load of luggage. Our companions were no exception 
to the rule. They had a wagon drawn by six mules, and 
5 crammed with provisions for six months, besides ammu- 
nition enough for a regiment; spare rifles and fowling- 
pieces, ropes and harness; personal baggage, and a mis- 
cellaneous assortment of articles, which produced infinite 
embarrassment on the journey. They had also decorated 

10 their persons with telescopes and portable compasses, and 
carried English double-barrelled rifles of sixteen to the 
pound calibre, slung to their saddles in dragoon fashion. 

By sunrise on the twenty-third of May we had break- 
fasted; the tents were levelled, the animals saddled and 

16 harnessed, and all was prepared. "Avance done! get up ! " 
cried Deslauriers from his seat in front of the cart. 
Wright, our friends' muleteer, after some swearing and 
lashing, got his insubordinate train in motion, and then the 
whole party filed from the ground. Thus we bade a long 

26 



" Jumping Off " 27 

adieu to bed and board and the principles of Blackstone's 
Commentaries.. The day was a most auspicious one; and 
yet Shaw and I felt certain misgivings, which in the 
sequel proved but too well founded. We had just learned 
that though R. had taken it upon him to adopt this course 5 
without consulting us, not a single man in the party was 
acquainted with it; and the absurdity of our friend's high- 
handed measure very soon became manifest. His plan 
was to strike the trail of several companies of dragoons, 
who last summer had made an expedition under Colonel 10 
Kearny to Fort Laramie, and by this means to reach the 
grand trail of the Oregon emigrants up the Platte. 

We rode for an hour or two, when a familiar cluster of 
buildings appeared on a little hill. " Halloo ! " shouted the 
Kickapoo trader from over his fence, " where are you 15 
going? " A few rather emphatic exclamations might have 
been heard among us when we found that we had gone 
miles out of our way, and were not advanced an inch to- 
ward the Rocky Mountains. So we turned in the direc- 
tion the trader indicated; and with the sun for a guide, 20 
began to trace a " bee-line " across the prairies. We 
struggled through copses and lines of wood; we waded 
brooks and pools of water; we traversed prairies as green 
as an emerald, expanding before us for mile after mile, 
wider and more wild than the wastes Mazeppa rode over : 25 

" Man nor brute. 
Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, 
Lay in the wild luxuriant soil ; 
No sign of travel; none of toil; 
The very air was mute." 30 

Riding in advance, as we passed over one of these great 
plains, we looked back and saw the line of scattered horse- 
men stretching for a mile or more; and far in the rear, 
against the horizon, the white wagons creeping slowly 
along. " Here we are at last ! " shouted the Captain. And 35 
in truth we had struck upon the traces of a large body of 
horse. We turned joyfully and followed this new course, 



28 The Oregon Trail 

with tempers somewhat improved; and toward sunset en- 
camped on a high swell of the prairie, at the foot of which 
a lazy stream soaked along through clumps of rank grass. 
It was getting dark. We turned the horses loose to feed. 
5 " Drive down the tent-pickets hard," said Henry Chatil- 
lon, " it is going to blow." We did so, and secured the 
tent as well as we could ; for the sky had changed totally, 
and a fresh damp smell in the wind warned us that a 
stormy night was likely to succeed the hot clear day. The 

10 prairie also wore a new aspect, and its vast swells had 
grown black and sombre under the shadow of the clouds. 
The thunder soon began to growl at a distance. Picketing 
and hobbling the horses among the rich grass at the foot 
of the slope where we encamped, we gained a shelter just 

15 as the rain began to fall ; and sat at the opening of the 
tent, watching the proceedings of the Captain. In defi- 
ance of the rain, he was stalking among the horses, 
wrapped in an old Scotch plaid. An extreme solicitude 
tormented him, lest some of his favorites should escape, 

20 or some accident should befall them ; and he cast an 
anxious eye toward three wolves who were sneaking along 
over the dreary surface of the plain, as if he dreaded 
some hostile demonstration on their part. 

On the next morning we had gone but a mile or two, 

25 when we came to an extensive belt of woods, through the 
midst of which ran a stream, wide, deep, and of an ap- 
pearance particularly muddy and treacherous. Deslauriers 
was in advance with his cart; he jerked his pipe from his 
mouth, lashed his mules, and poured forth a volley of 

30 Canadian ejaculations. In plunged the cart, but midway 
it stuck fast. Deslauriers leaped out knee-deep in water, 
and by dint of sacres and a vigorous application of the 
whip, he urged the mules out of the slough. Then ap- 
proached the long team and heavy wagon of our friends; 

35 but it paused on the brink. 

" Now my advice is — " began the Captain, who had 
been anxiously contemplating the muddy gulf. 
" Drive on ! " cried R. 



^'Jumping Off" 29 

But Wright, the muleteer, apparently had not as yet 
decided the point in his own mind; and he sat still in his 
seat on one of the shaft-mules, whistling in a low contem- 
plative strain to himself. 

" My advice is," resumed the Captain, " that we unload ; 5 
for I'll bet any man five pounds that if we try to go 
through, we shall stick fast." 

" By the powers, we shall stick fast ! " echoed Jack, the 
Captain's brother, shaking his large head with an air of 
firm conviction. 10 

" Drive on ! drive on ! " cried R., petulantly. 

" Well," observed the Captain, turning to us as we sat 
looking on, much edified by this by-play among our con- 
federates, " I can only give my advice, and if people won't 
be reasonable, why, they won't ; that's all ! " 15 

Meanwhile, Wright had apparently made up his mind; 
for he suddenly began to shout forth a volley of oaths 
and curses that, compared with the French imprecations 
of Deslauriers, sounded like the roaring of heavy cannon 
after the popping and sputtering of a bunch of Chinese 20 
crackers. At the same time he discharged a shower of - 
blows upon his mules, who hastily dived into the mud and 
drew the wagon lumbering after them. For a moment 
the issue was dubious. Wright writhed about in his sad- 
dle, and swore and lashed like a madman ; but who can 25 
count on a team of half-broken mules? At the most criti- 
cal point, when all should have been harmony and com- 
bined effort, the perverse brutes fell into lamentable 
disorder, and huddled together in confusion on the farther 
bank. There was the wagon up to the hub in mud and 30 
visibly settling every instant. There was nothing for it 
but to unload; then to dig away the mud from before the 
wheels with a spade, and lay a causeway of bushes and 
branches. This agreeable labor accomplished, the wagon 
at length emerged; but if I mention that some interrup- 35 
tion of this sort occurred at least four or five times a day 
for a fortnight, the reader will understand that our prog- 
gress toward the Platte was not without its obstacles. 



30 The Oregon Trail 

We travelled six or seven miles farther, and " nooned " 
near a brook. On the point of resuming our journey, 
when the horses were all driven down to water, my home- 
sick charger Pontiac made a sudden leap across, and set 
5 off at a round trot for the settlements. I mounted my 
remaining horse, and started in pursuit. Making a cir- 
cuit, I headed the runaway, hoping to drive him back to 
camp ; but he instantly broke into a gallop, made a wide 
tour on the prairie, and got past me again. I tried this 

10 plan repeatedly, with the same result ; Pontiac was evi- 
dently disgusted with the prairie; so I abandoned it, and 
tried another, trotting along gently behind him, in hopes 
that I might quietly get near enough to seize the trail- 
rope which was fastened to his neck, and dragj^ed about 

15 a dozen feet behind him. The chase grew interesting. 
For mile after mile I followed the rascal, with the utmost 
care not to alarm him, and gradually got nearer, until at 
length old Hendrick's nose was fairly brushed by the 
whisking tail of the unsuspecting Pontiac. Without draw- 

20 ing rein I slid softly to the ground; but my long heavy 
rifle encumbered me, and the low sound it made in strik- 
ing the horn of the saddle startled him; he pricked up 
his ears, and sprang off at a run. " My friend," thought 
I, remounting, " do that again, and I will shoot you ! " 

25 Fort Leavenworth was about forty miles distant, and 
thither I determined to follow him. I made up my mind 
to spend a solitary and supperless night, and then set out 
again in the morning. One hope, however, remained. 
The creek where the wagon had stuck was just before us; 

30 Pontiac might be thirsty with his run, and stop there to 
drink. I kept as near to him as possible, taking every 
precaution not to alarm him again; and the result proved 
as I had hoped; for he walked deliberately among the 
trees, and stooped down to the water. I alighted, dragged 

35 old Hendrick through the mud, and with a feeling of 
infinite satisfaction picked up the slimy trail-rope, and 
twisted it three times round my hand. " Now let me see 
you get away again ! " I thought, as I remounted. But 



"Jumping Off" 31 

Pontiac was exceedingly reluctant to turn back; Hen- 
drick, too, who had evidently flattered himself with vain 
hopes, showed the utmost repugnance, and grumbled in 
a manner peculiar to himself at being compelled to face 
about. A smart cut of the whip restored his cheerful- 5 
ness; and dragging the recovered truant behind, I set 
out in search of the camp. An hour or two elapsed, 
when, near sunset, I saw the tents, standing on a rich swell 
of the prairie, beyond a line of woods, while the bands of 
horses were feeding in a low meadow close at hand. 10 
There sat Jack C, cross-legged, in the sun, splicing a 
trail-rope, and the rest were lying on the grass, smoking 
and telling stories. That night we enjoyed a serenade 
from the wolves, more lively than any with which they 
had yet favored us; and in the morning one of the musi- 15 
cians appeared, not many rods from the tents, quietly 
seated among the horses, looking at us with a pair of 
large gray eyes; but perceiving a rifle levelled at him, he 
leaped up and made off in hot haste. 

I pass by the following day or two of our journey, for 20 
nothing occurred worthy of record. Should any one of 
my readers ever be impelled to visit the prairies, and 
should he choose the route of the Platte (the best, per- 
haps, that can be adopted), I can assure him that he need 
not think to enter at once upon the paradise of his imagi- 25 
nation. A dreary preliminary, a protracted crossing of 
the threshold, awaits him before he finds himself fairly 
upon the verge of the "Great American Desert"; those 
barren wastes, the haunts of the buffalo and the Indian, 
where the very shadow of civilization lies a hundred 30 
leagues behind him. The intervening country, the wide 
and fertile belt that extends for several hundred miles 
beyond the extreme frontier, will probably answer toler- 
ably well to his preconceived ideas of the prairie; for 
this it is from which picturesque tourists, painters, poets, 35 
and novelists, who have seldom penetrated farther, have 
derived their conceptions of the whole region. If he has 
a painter's eye, he may find his period of probation not 



32 The Oregon Trail 

wholly void of interest. The scenery, though tame, is 
graceful and pleasing. Here are level plains too wide for 
the eye to measure; green undulations like motionless 
swells of the ocean; abundance of streams, followed 
5 through all their windings by lines of woods and scat- 
tered groves. But let him be as enthusiastic as he may, 
he will find enough to damp his ardor. His wagons will 
stick in the mud ; his horses will break loose ; harness will 
give way, and axle-trees prove unsound. His bed will be 

10 a soft one, consisting often of black mud of the richest 
consistency. As for food, he must content himself with 
biscuit and salt provisions; for, strange as it may seem, 
this tract of country produces very little game. As he 
advances, indeed, he will see, mouldering in the grass by 

15 his path, the vast antlers of the elk, and farther on, the 
whitened skulls of the buffalo, once swarming over this 
now deserted region. Perhaps, like us, he may journey 
for a fortnight, and see not so much as the hoof-print of 
a deer ; in the spring not even a prairie-hen is to be had. 

20 Yet, to compensate him for this unlooked-for deficiency 
of game, he will find himself beset with "varmints" in- 
numerable. The wolves will entertain him with a con- 
certo at night, and skulk around him by day just beyond 
rifle-shot; his horse will step into badger-holes; from 

25 every marsh and mud-puddle will arise the bellowing, 
croaking, and trilling of legions of frogs, infinitely various 
in color, shape, and dimensions. A profusion of snakes 
will glide away from under his horse's feet, or quietly 
visit him in his tent at night ; while the pertinacious hum- 

30 ming of unnumbered mosquitoes will banish sleep from 
his eyelids. When, thirsty with a long ride in the scorch- 
ing sun over some boundless reach of prairie, he comes 
at length to a pool of water, and alights to drink, he 
discovers a troop of young tadpoles sporting in the bottom 

35 of his cup. Add to this, that all the morning the sun 
beats upon him with a sultry, penetrating heat, and that, 
with provoking regularity, at about four o'clock in the 
afternoon, a thunder-s|:orm rises and drenches him to the 



"Jumping Off" 33 

skin. Such being the charms of this favored region, the 
reader will easily conceive the extent of our gratification 
at learning that for a week we had been journeying on 
the wrong track ! How this agreeable discovery was 
made I will presently explain. 5 

One day, after a protracted morning's ride, we stopped 
to rest at noon upon the open prairie. No trees were in 
sight ; but close at hand a little dribbling brook was twist- 
ing from side to side through a hollow, now forming holes 
of stagnant water, and now gliding over the mud in a 10 
scarcely perceptible current, among a growth of sickly 
bushes and great clumps of tall rank grass. The day was 
excessively hot and oppressive. The horses and mules 
were rolling on the prairie to refresh themselves, or feed- 
ing among the bushes in the hollow. We had dined; and 15 
Deslauriers, puffing at his pipe, knelt on the grass, scrub- 
bing our service of tin-plate. Shaw lay in the shade, 
under the cart, to rest for awhile, before the word should 
be given to " catch up." Henry Chatillon, before lying 
down, was looking about for signs of snakes, the only 20 
living things that he feared, and uttering various ejacula- 
tions of disgust at finding several suspicious-looking holes 
close to the cart. I sat leaning against the wheel in a 
scanty strip of shade, making a pair of hobbles to replace 
those which my contumacious steed Pontiac had 25 
broken the night before. The camp of our friends, a 
rod or two distant, presented the same scene of lazy 
tranquillity. 

" Halloo ! " cried Henry, looking up from his inspection 
of the snake-holes, " here comes the old Captain ! " 30 

The Captain approached, and stood for a moment con- 
templating us in silence. 

" I say, Parkman," he began, " look at Shaw there, 
asleep under the cart, with the tar dripping off the hub 
of the wheel on his shoulder ! " 35 

At this Shaw got up, with his eyes half opened, and 
feeling the part indicated, he found his hand glued fast 
to his red flannel shirt. 



34 The Oregon Trail 

" He'll look well, when he gets among the squaws, won't 
he ! " observed the Captain, with a grin. 

He then crawled under the cart and began to tell 
stories, of which his stock was inexhaustible. Yet every 
5 moment he would glance nervously at the horses. At last 
he jumped up in great excitement. " See that horse ! 
There — that fellow just walking over the hill! By Jove! 
he's off. It's your big horse, Shaw ; no it isn't, it's Jack's ! 
Jack ! Jack ! halloo, Jack ! " Jack, thus invoked, jumped 
10 up and stared vacantly at us. 

" Go and catch your horse, if you don't want to lose 
him ! " roared the Captain. 

Jack instantly set off at a run through the grass, his 

broad pantaloons flapping about his feet. The Captain 

15 gazed anxiously till he saw that the horse was caught; 

then he sat down, with a countenance of thoughtfulness 

and care. 

" I tell you what it is," he said, " this will never do at 
all. We shall lose every horse in the band some day or 
20 other, and then a pretty plight we should be in ! Now I 
am convinced that the only way for us is to have every 
man in the camp stand horse-guard in rotation whenever 
we stop. Supposing a hundred Pawnees should jump up 
out of that ravine, all yelling and flapping their buffalo 
25 robes, in the way they do? Why, in two minutes not a 
hoof would be in sight." We reminded the Captain that 
a hundred Pawnees would probably demolish the horse- 
guard, if he were to resist their depredations. 

" At any rate," pursued the Captain, evading the point, 
30 "our whole system is wrong; I'm convinced of it; it is 
totally unmilitary. Why, the way we travel, strung out 
over the prairie for a mile, an enemy might attack the 
foremost men and cut them off before the rest could 
come up." 
35 "We are not in an enemy's country yet," said Shaw; 
" when we are, we'll travel together." 

" Then," said the Captain, " we might be attacked in 
camp. We've no sentinels; we camp in disorder; no pre- 



"Jumping Off" 35 

cautions at all to guard against surprise. My own con- 
victions are that we ought to camp in a hollow-square, 
with the fires in the centre ; and have sentinels and a regu- 
lar password appointed for every night. Beside, there 
should be vedettes, riding in advance, to find a place for 5 
the camp and give warning of an enemy. These are my 
convictions. I don't want to dictate to any man. I give 
advice to the best of my judgment, that's all; and then 
let people do as they please." 

We intimated that perhaps it would be as well to post- 10 
pone such burdensome precautions until there should be 
some actual need of them; but he shook his head dubi- 
ously. The Captain's sense of military propriety had been 
severely shocked by what he considered the irregular pro- 
ceedings of the party; and this was not the first time he 15 
had expressed himself upon the subject. But his convic- 
tions seldom produced any practical results. In the pres- 
ent case he contented himself, as usual, with enlarging on 
the importance of his suggestions, and wondering that 
they were not adopted. But his plan of sending out 20 
vedettes seemed particularly dear to him; and as no one 
else was disposed to second his views on this point, he 
took it into his head to ride forward that afternoon 
himself. 

" Come, Parkman," said he, " will you go with me ? " 25 

We set out together, and rode a mile or two in advance. 
The Captain, in the course of twenty years' service in the 
British army, had seen something of life; one extensive 
side of it, at least, he had enjoyed the best opportunities 
for studying; and being naturally a pleasant fellow, he 30 
was a very entertaining companion. He cracked jokes 
and told stories for an hour or two; until, looking back, 
we saw the prairie behind us stretching away to the hori- 
zon without. a horseman or a wagon in sight. 

" Now," said the Captain, '' I think the vedettes had 35 
better stop till the main body comes up." 

I was of the same opinion. There was a thick growth 
of woods just before us, with a stream running through 



36 The Oregon Trail 

them. Having crossed this, we found on the other side a 
fine level meadow, half encircled by the trees; and fasten- 
ing our horses to some bushes, we sat down on the grass, 
while, with an old stump of a tree for a target, I began 
5 to display the superiority of the renowned rifle of the 
backwoods over the foreign innovation borne by the 
Captain. At length voices could be heard in the distance 
behind the trees. 

*' There they come ! " said the Captain ; " let's go and 

10 see how they get through the creek." 

We mounted and rode to the bank of the stream, where 
the trail crossed it. It ran in a deep hollow, full of trees; 
as we looked down, we saw a confused crowd of horse- 
men riding through the water; and among the dingy 

15 habiliments of our party glittered the uniforms of four 
dragoons. 

Shaw came whipping his horse up the bank, in advance 
of the rest, with a somewhat indignant countenance. 
The first word he spoke was a blessing fervently invoked 

20 on the head of R., who was riding, with a crest-fallen air, 
in the rear. Thanks to the ingenious devices of this gen- 
tleman, we had missed the track entirely, and wandered, 
not toward the Platte, but to the village of the Iowa 
Indians. This we learned from the dragoons, who had 

25 lately deserted from Fort Leavenworth. They told us 
that our best plan now was to keep to the northward 
until we should strike the trail formed by several parties 
of Oregon emigrants, who had that season set out from 
St. Joseph, in Missouri. 

30 In extremely bad temper, we encamped on this ill- 
starred spot; while the deserters, whose case admitted of 
no delay, rode rapidly forward. On the day following, 
striking the St. Joseph trail, we turned our horses' heads 
toward Fort Laramie, then about seven hundred miles to 

35 the westward. 



CHAPTER V 

THE "BIG BLUE" 

" A man so various, that he seemed to be 
Not one, but all mankind's epitome, 
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, 
Was everything by starts, and nothing long, 
But in the space of one revolving moon. 
Was gamester, chemist, fiddler, and buffoon." 

Dryden. 

The great medley of Oregon and California emigrants, 
at their camps around Independence, had heard reports 
that several additional parties were on the point of set- 
ting out from St. Joseph, farther to the northward. The 
prevailing impression was that these were Mormons, 5 
twenty-three hundred in numberj and a great alarm was 
excited in consequence. The people of Illinois and Mis- 
souri, who composed by far the greater part of the emi- 
grants, have never been on the best terms with the 
" Latter Day Saints " ; and it is notorious throughout the 10 
country how much blood has been spilt in their feuds, even 
far within the limits of the settlements. No one could 
predict what would be the result, when large armed bodies 
of these fanatics should encounter the most impetuous 
and reckless of their old enemies on the broad prairie, far 15 
beyond the reach of law or military force. The women 
and children at Independence raised a great outcry; the 
men themselves were seriously alarmed ; and, as I learned, 
they sent to Colonel Kearny, requesting an escort of 
dragoons as far as the Platte. This was refused; and as 20 
the sequel proved, there was no occasion for it. The St. 
Joseph emigrants were as good Christians and as zealous 
Mormon-haters as the rest; and the very few families of 
the " Saints " who passed out this season by the route of 

37 



38 The Oregon Trail 

the Platte remained behind until the great tide of emigra- 
tion had gone by; standing in quite as much awe of the 
" gentiles " as the latter did of them. 

We were now, as I before mentioned, upon this St. 

5 Joseph trail. It was evident, by the traces, that large 

parties were a few days in advance of us; and as we too 

supposed them to be Mormons, we had some apprehension 

of interruption. 

The journey was somewhat monotonous. One day we 

10 rode on for hours without seeing a tree or a bush ; before, 
behind, and on either side stretched the vast expanse, 
rolling in a succession of graceful swells, covered with the 
unbroken carpet of fresh green grass. Here and there 
a crow, or a raven, or a turkey-buzzard relieved the 

15 uniformity. 

" What shall we do to-night for wood and water? " we 
began to ask of each other; for the sun was within an 
hour of setting. At length a dark green speck appeared, 
far off on the right; it was the top of a tree, peering over 

20 a swell of the prairie ; and leaving the trail, we made all 
haste toward it. It proved to be the vanguard of a 
cluster of bushes and low trees, that surrounded some 
pools of water in an extensive hollow; so we encamped 
on the rising ground near it. 

25 Shaw and I were sitting in the tent when Deslauriers 
thrust his brown face and old felt hat into the opening, 
and dilating his eyes to their utmost extent, announced 
supper. There were the tin cups and the iron spoons, 
arranged in military order on the grass, and the coffee- 

30 pot predominant in the midst. The meal was soon dis- 
patched ; but Henry Chatillon still sat cross-legged, dallying 
with the remnant of his coffee, the beverage in uni- 
versal use upon the prairie, and an especial favorite with 
him. He preferred it in its virgin flavor, unimpaired by 

35 sugar or cream; and on the present occasion it met his 
entire approval, being exceedingly strong, or, as he ex- 
pressed it, " right black." 
It was a rich and gorgeous sunset — an American sun- 



The '' Big Blue 'V 39 

set; and the ruddy glow of the sky was reflected from 
some extensive pools of water among the shadowy copses 
in the meadow below. 

" I must have a bath to-night," said Shaw. " How is 
it, Deslauriers? Any chance for a swim down there? " 5 

"Ah! I cannot tell; just as you please, Monsieur," re- 
plied Deslauriers, shrugging his shoulders, perplexed by 
his ignorance of English, and extremely anxious to con- 
form in all respects to the opinions and wishes of his 
bourgeois. 10 

" Look at his moccasin," said I. It had evidently been 
lately immersed in a profound abyss of black mud. 

" Come," said Shaw ; " at any rate we can see for 
ourselves." 

We set out together ; and as we approached the bushes, 15 
which were at some distance, we found the ground be- 
coming rather treacherous. We could only get along by 
stepping upon large clumps of tall rank grass, with fath- 
omless gulfs between, like innumerable little quaking 
islands in an ocean of mud, where a false step would have 20 
involved our boots in a catastrophe like that which had 
befallen Deslauriers's moccasin. The thing looked desper- 
ate; we separated, so as to search in different directions, 
Shaw going off to the right, while I kept straight forward. 
At last I came to the edge of the bushes; they were young 25 
water-willows, covered with their caterpillar-like blos- 
soms, but intervening between them and the last grass 
clump was a black and deep slough, over which, by a vig- 
orous exertion, I contrived to jump. Then I shouldered 
my way through the willows, trampling them down by 30 
main force, till I came to a wide stream of water, three 
inches deep, languidly creeping along over a bottom of 
sleek mud. My arrival produced a great commotion. A 
huge green bullfrog uttered an indignant croak, and 
jumped off the bank with a loud splash ; his webbed feet 35 
twinkled above the surface, as he jerked them energet- 
ically upward; and I could see him ensconcing himself in 
the unresisting slime at the bottom, whence several large 



40 The Oregon Trail 

air-bubbles struggled lazily to the top. Some little spotted 
frogs instantly followed the patriarch's example; and 
then three turtles, not larger than a dollar, tumbled them- 
selves off a broad " lily pad," where they had been repos- 
5 ing. At the same time a snake, gayly striped with black 
and yellow, glided out from the bank and writhed across 
to the other side; and a small stagnant pool into which 
my foot had inadvertently pushed a stone was instantly 
alive with a congregation of black tadpoles. 

10 " Any chance for a bath, where you are ? " called out 
Shaw, from a distance. 

The answer was not encouraging. I retreated through 
the willows, and rejoining my companion, we proceeded 
to push our researches in company. Not far on the right, 

15 a rising ground, covered with trees and bushes, seemed to 
sink down abruptly to the water, and give hope of better 
success; so toward this we directed our steps. When we 
reached the place we found it no easy matter to get along 
between the hill and the water, impeded as we were by a 

20 growth of stiff, obstinate young birch trees, laced together 
by grape-vines. In the twilight we now and then, to sup- 
port ourselves, snatched at the touch-me-not stem of some 
ancient sweet-brier. Shaw, who was in advance, suddenly 
uttered a somewhat emphatic monosyllable; and, looking 

25 up, I saw him with one hand grasping a sapling, and one 
foot immersed in the water, from which he had forgotten 
to withdraw it, his whole attention being engaged in con- 
templating the movements of a water-snake, about five 
feet long, curiously checkered with black and green, who 

30 was deliberately swimming across the pool. There being 
no stick or stone at hand to pelt him with, we looked at 
him for a time in silent disgust ; and then pushed forward. 
Our perseverance was at last rewarded; for several rods 
farther on, we emerged upon a little level grassy nook 

35 among the brushwood, and by an extraordinary dispensa- 
tion of fortune, the weeds and floating sticks, which else- 
where covered the pool, seemed to have drawn apart, and 
left a few yards of clear water just in front of this favored 



The " Big Blue " 41 

spot. We sounded it with a stick; it was four feet deep; 
we lifted a specimen in our closed hands; it seemed rea- 
sonably transparent, so we decided that the time for 
action was arrived. But our ablutions were suddenly 
interrupted by ten thousand punctures, like poisoned 5 
needles, and the humming of myriads of overgrown mos- 
quitoes, rising in all directions from their native mud and 
slime and swarming to the feast. We were fain to beat a 
retreat with all possible speed. 

We made toward the tents, much refreshed by the bath, 10 
which the heat of the weather, joined to our prejudices, 
had rendered very desirable. 

'' What's the matter with the Captain ? look at him ! " 
said Shaw. The Captain stood alone on the prairie, 
swinging his hat violently around his head, and lifting 15 
first one foot and then the other, without moving from 
the spot. First he looked down to the ground with an air 
of supreme abhorrence; then he gazed upward with a 
perplexed and indignant countenance, as if trying to trace 
the flight of an unseen enemy. We called to know what 20 
was the matter ; but he replied only by execrations directed 
against some unknown object. We approached, when our 
ears were saluted by a droning sound, as if twenty bee- 
hives had been overturned at once. The air above was 
full of large black insects in a state of great commotion, 25 
and multitudes were flying about just above the tops of 
the grass-blades. 

" Don't be afraid," called the Captain, observing us 
recoil. " The brutes won't sting." 

At this I knocked one down with my hat, and discov- 30 
ered him to be no other than a " dor-bug " ; and looking 
closer, we found the ground thickly perforated with their 
holes. 

We took a hasty leave of this flourishing colony, and 
walking up the rising ground to the tents, found Des- 35 
lauriers's fire still glowing brightly. We sat down around 
it, and Shaw began to expatiate on the admirable facili- 
ties for bathing that we had discovered, and recommended 



42 The Oregon Trail 

the Captain by all means to go down there before break- 
fast in the morning. The Captain was in the act of 
remarking that he couldn't have believed it possible, when 
he suddenly interrupted himself, and clapped his hand to 
5 his cheek, exclaiming that " those infernal humbugs were 
at him again." In fact, we began to hear sounds as if 
bullets were humming over our heads. In a moment 
something rapped me sharply on the forehead, then upon 
the neck, and immediately I felt an indefinite number of 

10 sharp wiry claws in active motion, as if their owner were 
bent on pushing his explorations farther. I seized him 
and dropped him into the fire. Our party speedily broke 
up, and we adjourned to our respective tents, w^here, clos- 
ing the opening fast, we hoped to be exempt from inva- 

15 sion. But all precaution was fruitless. The dor-bugs 
hummed through the tent and marched over our faces until 
daylight; when, opening our blankets, we found several 
dozen clinging there with the utmost tenacity. The first 
object that met our eyes in the morning was Deslauriers, 

20 vvho seemed to be apostrophizing his frying-pan, which 
he held by the handle, at arm's length. It appeared that 
he had left it at night by the fire; and the bottom was 
now covered with dor-bugs, firmly imbedded. Multitudes 
besides, curiously parched and shrivelled, lay scattered 

25 among the ashes. 

The horses and mules were turned loose to feed. We 
had just taken our seats at breakfast, or rather reclined in 
the classic mode, when an exclamation from Henry Chatil- 
lon, and a shout of alarm from the Captain, gave warning 

30 of some casualty, and looking up, we saw the whole band 
of animals, twenty-three in number, filing off for the set- 
tlements, the incorrigible Pontiac at their head, jumping 
along with hobbled feet, at a gait much more rapid than 
graceful. Three or four of us ran to cut them off, dashing 

35 as best we might through the tall grass, which was glitter- 
ing with myriads of dewdrops. After a race of a mile or 
more, Shaw caught a horse. Tying the trail-rope by way 
of bridle round the animal's jaw, and leaping upon his 



The " Big Blue " 43 

back, he got in advance of the remaining fugitives, while 
we, soon bringing them together, drove them in a crowd 
up to the tents, where each man caught and saddled his. 
own. Then were heard lamentations and curses; for half 
the horses had broken their hobbles, and many were seri- 5 
ously galled by attempting to run in fetters. 

It was late that morning before we were on the march ; 
and early in the afternoon we were compelled to encamp, 
for a thunder-gust came up and suddenly enveloped us in 
whirling sheets of rain. With much ado we pitched our 10 
tents amid the tempest, and all night long the thunder 
bellowed and growled over our heads. In the morning, 
light peaceful showers succeeded the cataracts of rain 
that had been drenching us through the canvas of our 
tents. About noon, when there were some treacherous 15 
indications of fair weather, we got in motion again. 

Not a breath of air stirred over the free and open 
prairie; the clouds were like light piles of cotton; and 
where the blue sky was visible, it wore a hazy and languid 
aspect. The sun beat down upon us with a sultry, pene- 20 
trating heat almost insupportable; and as our party crept 
slowly along over the interminable level, the horses hung 
their heads as they waded fetlock deep through the mud, 
and the men slouched into the easiest position upon the 
saddle. At last, toward evening, the old familiar black 25 
heads of thunder-clouds rose fast above the horizon, and 
the same deep muttering of distant thunder that had be- 
come the ordinary accompaniment of our afternoon's 
journey began to roll hoarsely over the prairie. Only a 
few minutes elapsed before the whole sky was densely 30 
shrouded, and the prairie and some clusters of woods in 
front assumed a purple hue beneath the inky shadows. 
Suddenly from the densest fold of the cloud the flash 
leaped out, quivering again and again down to the edge 
of the prairie; and at the same instant came the sharp 35 
burst and the long rolling peal of the thunder. A cool 
wind, filled with the smell of rain, just then overtook us, 
levelling the tall grass by the side of the path. 



44 The Oregon Trail 

" Come on ; we must ride for it ! " shouted Shaw, rush- 
ing past at full speed, his led horse snorting at his side. 
The whole party broke into full gallop, and made for the 
trees in front. Passing these, we found beyond them a 
5 meadow which they half inclosed. We rode pell-mell 
upon the ground, leaped from horseback, tore off our 
saddles; and in a moment each man was kneeling at his 
horse's feet. The hobbles were adjusted, and the animals 
turned loose; then, as the wagons came wheeling rapidly 

10 to the spot, we seized upon the tent-poles, and just as the 
storm broke, we were prepared to receive it. It came 
upon us almost with the darkness of night; the trees 
which were close at hand were completely shrouded by 
the roaring torrents of rain. 

15 We were sitting in the tent, when Deslauriers, with his 
broad felt hat hanging about his ears and his shoulders 
glistening with rain, thrust in his head. 

" Voulez vous du souper, tout de suite ? I can make 
fire, sous la charette — I b'lieve so — I try." 

20 " Never mind supper, man; come in out of the rain." 
Deslauriers accordingly crouched in the entrance, for 
modesty would not permit him to intrude farther. 

Our tent was none of the best defence against such a 
cataract. The rain could not enter bodily, but it beat 

25 through the canvas in a fine drizzle that wetted us just as 
effectually. We sat upon our saddles with faces of the 
utmost surliness, while the water dropped from the vizors 
of our caps and trickled down our cheeks. My india- 
rubber cloak conducted twenty little rapid streamlets to 

30 the ground ; and Shaw's blanket coat was saturated like 
a sponge. But what most concerned us was the sight of 
several puddles of water rapidly accumulating; one, in 
particular, that was gathering around the tent-pole, threat- 
ened to overspread the whole area within the tent, hold- 

35 ing forth but an indifferent promise of a comfortable 
night's rest. Toward sunset, however, the storm ceased 
as suddenly as it began. A bright streak of clear red sky 
appeared above the western verge of the prairie, the hori- 



The " Big Blue " 45 

zontal rays of the sinking sun streamed through it and 
glittered in a thousand prismatic colors upon the dripping 
groves and the prostrate grass. The pools in the tent 
dwindled and sank into the saturated soil. 

But all our hopes were delusive. Scarcely had night set 5 
in when the tumult broke forth anew. The thunder here 
is not like the tame thunder of the Atlantic coast. Burst- 
ing with a terrific crash directly above our heads, it roared 
over the boundless waste of prairie, seeming to roll around 
the whole circle of the firmament with a peculiar and 10 
awful reverberation. The lightning flashed all night, 
playing with its livid glare upon the neighboring trees, 
revealing the vast expanse of the plain, and then leaving 
us shut in as if by a palpable wall of darkness. 

It did not disturb us much. Now and then a peal 15 
awakened us, and made us conscious of the electric battle 
that was raging, and of the floods that dashed upon the 
stanch canvas over our heads. We lay upon india-rubber 
cloths, placed between our blankets and the soil. For a 
while they excluded the water to admiration ; but when 20 
at length it accumulated and began to run over the edges, 
they served equally well to retain it, so that toward the 
end of the night we were unconsciously reposing in small 
pools of rain. 

On finally awakening in the morning the prospect was 25 
not a cheerful one. The rain no longer poured in torrents; 
but it pattered with a quiet pertinacity upon the strained 
and saturated canvas. We disengaged ourselves from our 
blankets, every fibre of which glistened with little bead- 
like drops of water, and looked out in the vain hope of 30 
discovering some token of fair weather. The clouds, in 
lead-colored volumes, rested upon the dismal verge of the 
prairie, or hung sluggishly overhead, while the earth wore 
an aspect no more attractive than the heavens, exhibiting 
nothing but pools of water, grass beaten down, and mud 35 
well trampled by our mules and horses. Our companions' 
tent, with an air of forlorn and passive misery, and their 
wagons in like manner, drenched and woe-begone, stood 



46 The Oregon Trail 

not far off. The Captain was just returning from his 
morning's inspection of the horses. He stalked through 
the mist and rain with his plaid around his shoulders, his 
little pipe, dingy as an antiquarian relic, projecting from 
5 beneath his moustache, and his brother Jack at his heels. 
" Good morning, Captain." 

" Good morning to your honors," said the Captain, 
affecting the Hibernian accent; but at that instant, as he 
stooped to enter the tent, he tripped upon the cords at the 

10 entrance, and pitched forward against the guns which 
were strapped around the pole in the centre. 

" You are nice men, you are ! ". said he, after an ejacu- 
lation not necessary to be recorded, " to set a man-trap 
before your door every morning to catch your visitors." 

15 Then he sat down upon Henry Chatillon's saddle. We 
tossed a piece of buffalo-robe to Jack, who was looking 
about in some embarrassment. He spread it on the 
ground, and took his seat, with a stolid countenance, at 
his brother's side. 

20 " Exhilarating weather. Captain." 

"Oh, delightful, delightful!" replied the Captain; "I 
knew it would be so; so much for starting yesterday at 
noon ! I knew how it would turn out ; and I said so at the 
time." 

25 " You said just the contrary to us. We were in no 
hurry, and only moved because you insisted on it." 

" Gentlemen," said the Captain, taking his pipe from 
his mouth with an air of extreme gravity, " it was no plan 
of mine. There's a man among us who is determined to 

30 have everything his own way. You may express your 
opinion; but don't expect him to listen. You may be as 
reasonable as you like ; oh, it all goes for nothing ! That 
man is resolved to rule the roost, and he'll set his face 
against any plan that he didn't think of himself." 

35 The Captain puffed for awhile at his pipe, as if medi- 
tating upon his grievances; then he began again: 

" For twenty years I have been in the British army ; and 
in all that time I never had half so much dissension, and 



The " Big Blue " 47 

quarrelling, and nonsense, as since I have been on this 
cursed prairie. He's the most uncomfortable man I ever 
met." 

" Yes," said Jack ; " and don't you know, Bill, how he 
drank up all the coffee last night, and put the rest by for 5 
himself till the morning ! " 

'* He pretends to know everything," resumed the Cap- 
tain ; " nobody must give orders but he ! It's oh ! we 
must do this ; and, oh ! we must do that ; and the tent must 
be pitched here, and the horses must be picketed there; 10 
for nobody knows as well as he does." 

We were a little surprised at this disclosure of domestic 
dissensions among our allies, for though we knew of their 
existence, we were not aware of their extent. The perse- 
cuted Captain seeming wholly at a loss as to the course 15 
of conduct that he should pursue, we recommended him 
to adopt prompt and energetic measures; but all his 
military experience had failed to teach him the indis- 
pensable lesson, to be " hard " when the emergency re- 
quires it. 20 

'' For twenty years," he repeated, " I have been in the 
British army, and in that time I have been intimately 
acquainted with some two hundred officers, young and 
old, and I never yet quarrelled with any man. * Oh, any- 
thing for a quiet life ! ' that's my maxim." 25 

We intimated that the prairie was hardly the place to 
enjoy a quiet life, but that, in the present circumstances, 
the best thing he could do toward securing his wished- 
for tranquillity was immediately to put a period to the 
nuisance that disturbed it. But again the Captain's easy 30 
good nature recoiled from the task. The somewhat vigor- 
ous measures necessary to gain the desired result were 
utterly repugnant to him ; he preferred to pocket his griev- 
ances, still retaining the privilege of grumbling about 
them. " Oh, anything for a quiet life ! " he said again, 35 
circling back to his favorite maxim. 

But to glance at the previous history of our trans- 
atlantic confederates. The Captain had sold his commis- 



48 The Oregon Trail 

sion, and was living in bachelor ease and dignity in his 
paternal halls, near Dublin. He hunted, fished, rode 
steeple-chases, ran races, and talked of his former ex- 
ploits. He was surrounded with the trophies of his rod 
5 and gun; the walls were plentifully garnished, he told us, 
with moose-horns and deer-horns, bear-skins and fox- 
tails; for the Captain's double-barrelled rifle had seen 
service in Canada and Jamaica; he had killed salmon in 
Nova Scotia, and trout, by his own account, in all the 

10 streams of the three kingdoms. But in an evil hour a 
seductive stranger came from London ; no less a person 
than R., who, among other multitudinous wanderings, 
had once been upon the western prairies, and, naturally 
enough, was anxious to visit them again. The Captain's 

15 imagination was inflamed by the pictures of a hunter's 
paradise that his guest held forth; he conceived an ambi- 
tion to add to his other trophies the horns of a buffalo 
and the claws of a grizzly bear; so he and R. struck a 
league to travel in company. Jack followed his brother 

20 as a matter of course. Two weeks on board of the Atlan- 
tic steamer brought them to Boston; in two weeks more 
of hard travelling they reached St. Louis, from which a 
ride of six days carried them to the frontier; and here 
we found them, in the full tide of preparation for their 

25 journey. 

We had been throughout on terms of intimacy with 
the Captain, but R., the motive power of our companions' 
branch of the expedition, was scarcely known to us. His 
voice, indeed, might he heard incessantly; but at camp 

30 he remained chiefly within the tent, and on the road he 
either rode by himself or else remained in close conver- 
sation with his friend Wright, the muleteer. As the 
Captain left the tent that morning, I observed R. standing 
by the fire, and, having nothing else to do, I determined 

35 to ascertain, if possible, what manner of man he was. 
He had a book under his arm, but just at present, Ije was 
engrossed in actively superintending the operations of 
Sorel, the hunter, who was cooking some corn-bread over 



The '' Big Blue " 49 

the coals for breakfast. R. was a well- formed and rather 
good-looking man, some thirty years old; considerably 
younger than the Captain. He wore a beard and mous- 
tache of the oakum complexion, and his attire was alto- 
gether more elegant than one ordinarily sees on the 5 
prairie. He wore his cap on one side of his head; his 
checked shirt, open in front, was in very neat order, con- 
sidering the circumstances; and his blue pantaloons, of the 
John Bull cut, might once have figured in Bond Street. 

" Turn over that cake, man ! turn it over quick ! Don't 10 
you see it burning? " 

'* It ain't half-done," growled Sorel, in the amiable 
tone of a whipped bull-dog. 

" It is. Turn it over, I tell you ! " 

Sorel, a strong, sullen-looking Canadian, who, from 15 
having spent his life among the wildest and most remote 
of the Indian tribes, had imbibed much of their dark 
vindictive spirit, looked ferociously up, as if he longed to 
leap upon his bourgeois and throttle him; but he obeyed 
the order, coming from so experienced an artist. 20 

** It was a good idea of yours," said I, seating myself 
on the tongue of the wagon, " to bring Indian meal with 
you." 

" Yes, yes," said R., " it's good bread for the prairie — 
good bread for the prairie. I tell you that's burning 25 
again." 

Here he stooped down, and unsheathing the silver- 
mounted hunting-knife in his belt, began to perform the 
part of cook himself; at the same time requesting me to 
hold for a moment the book under his arm, which inter- 30 
fered with the exercise of these important functions. I 
opened it ; it was " Macaulay's Lays " ; and I made some 
remark, expressing my admiration of the work. 

" Yes, yes ; a pretty good thing. Macaulay can do 
better than that, though. I know him very well. I have 35 
travelled with him. Where was it we met first — at Da- 
mascus? No, no; it was in Italy." 

" So," said I, " you have been over the same ground 



50 The Oregon Trail 



with your countryman, the author of ' Eothen ' ? There 
has been some discussion in America as to who he is. I 
have heard Milnes's name mentioned." 

" Milnes? Oh, no, no, no; not at all. It was Kinglake; 

5 Kinglake's the man. I know him very well ; that is, I 
have seen him." 

Here Jack C, who stood by, interposed a remark (a 
thing not common with him), observing that he thought 
the weather would become fair before twelve o'clock. 

10 ** It's going to rain all day," said R., " and clear up in 
the middle of the night." 

Just then the clouds began to dissipate in a very un- 
equivocal manner; but Jack, not caring to defend his 
point against so authoritative a declaration, walked away 

15 whistling, and we resumed our conversation. 

" Borrow, the author of ' The Bible in Spain,' I pre- 
sume you know him, too ? " 

" Oh, certainly ; I know all those men. By the way, 
they told me that one of your American writers. Judge 

20 Story, had died lately. I edited some of his works in 
London; not without faults, though." 

Here followed an erudite commentary on certain points 
of law, in which he particularly animadverted on the 
errors into which he considered that the judge had been 

25 betrayed. At length, having touched successively on an 
infinite variety of topics, I found that I had the happiness 
of discovering a man equally competent to enlighten me 
upon them all, equally an authority on matters of science 
or literature, philosophy or fashion. The part I bore in 

30 the conversation was by no means a prominent one ; it 
was only necessary to set him going, and when he had 
run long enough upon one topic, to divert him to another 
and lead him on to pour out his heaps of treasure in 
succession. 

35 " What has that fellow been saying to you ? " said Shaw, 
as I returned to the tent. " I have heard nothing but his 
talking for the last half-hour." 

R. had none of the peculiar traits of the ordinary 



The " Big Blue " 51 

" British snob " ; his absurdities were all his own, belong- 
ing to no particular nation or clime. He was possessed 
with an active devil that had driven him over land and 
sea, to no great purpose, as it seemed; for although he 
had the usual complement of eyes and ears, the avenues 5 
between these organs and his brain appeared remarkably- 
narrow and untrodden. His energy was much more con- 
spicuous than his wisdom ; but his predominant character- 
istic was a magnanimous ambition to exercise on all 
occasions an awful rule and supremacy, and this pro- 10 
pensity equally displayed itself, as the reader will have 
observed, whether the matter in question was the baking 
of a hoe-cake or a point of international law. When such 
diverse elements as he and the easy-tempered Captain 
came in contact, no wonder some commotion ensued; 15 
R. rode rough-shod, from morning till night, over his 
military ally. 

At noon the sky was clear, and we set out, trailing 
through mud and slime six inches deep. That night we 
were spared the customary infliction of the shower-bath. 20 

On the next afternoon we were moving slowly along, 
not far from a patch of woods which lay on the right. 
Jack C. rode a little in advance, — 

'* The livelong day he had not spoke," 

when suddenly he faced about, pointed to the woods, 25 
and roared out to his brother: 

" Oh, Bill ! here's a cow ! " 

The Captain instantly galloped forward, and he and 
Jack made a vain attempt to capture the prize; but the 
cow, with a well-grounded distrust of their intentions, 30 
took refuge among the trees. R. joined them, and they 
soon drove her out. We watched their evolutions as 
they galloped around her, trying in vain to noose her 
with their trail-ropes, which they had converted into 
lariettes for the occasion. At length they resorted to 35 
milder measures, and the cow was driven along with the 



52 The Oregon Trail 

party. Soon after the usual thunder-storm came up, 
the wind blowing with such fury that the streams of rain 
flew almost horizontally along the prairie, roaring like a 
cataract. The horses turned tail to the storm, and stood 
5 hanging their heads, bearing the infliction with an air of 
meekness and resignation; while we drew our heads be- 
tween our shoulders and crouched forward, so as to make 
our backs serve as a pent-house for the rest of our per- 
sons. Meanwhile the cow, taking advantage of the tumult, 

10 ran off, to the great discomfiture of the Captain, who 
seemed to consider her as his own especial prize, since 
she had been discovered by Jack. In defiance of the 
storm, he pulled his cap tight over his brows, jerked a 
huge buffalo-pistol from his holster, and set out at full 

15 speed after her. This was the last we saw of them for 
some time, the mist and rain making an impenetrable 
veil ; but at length we heard the Captain's shout, and saw 
him looming through the tempest, the picture of a Hiber- 
nian cavalier, with his cocked pistol held aloft for safety's 

20 sake, and a countenance of anxiety and excitement. The 
cow trotted before him, but exhibited evident signs of an 
intention to run off again, and the Captain was roaring 
to us to head her. But the rain had got in behind our 
coat collars, and was travelling over our necks in numer- 

25 ous little streamlets ; and being afraid to move our heads, 
for fear of admitting more, we sat stiff and immovable, 
looking at the Captain askance, and laughing at his fran- 
tic movements. At last the cow made a sudden plunge 
and ran off; the Captain grasped his pistol firmly, spurred 

36 his horse, and galloped after, with evident designs of 
mischief. In a moment we heard the faint report, dead- 
ened by the rain, and then the conqueror and his victim 
reappeared, the latter shot through the body, and quite 
helpless. Not long after, the storm moderated and we 

35 advanced again. The cow walked painfully along under 
the charge of Jack, to whom the Captain had committed 
her, while he himself rode forward in his old capacity of 
vedette. We were approaching a long line of trees that 



The " Big Blue " 53 

followed a stream stretching across our path, far in front, 
when we beheld the vedette galloping toward us, appar- 
ently much excited, but with a broad grin on his face. 

" Let that cow drop behind ! " he shouted to us ; " here's 
her owners ! " 5 

And in fact, as we approached the line of trees, a large 
white object, like a tent, was visible behind them. On 
approaching, however, we found, instead of the expected 
Mormon camp, nothing but the lonely prairie, and a 
large white rock standing by the path. The cow, there- 10 
fore, resumed her place in our procession. She walked 
on until we encamped, when R., firmly approaching with 
his enormous English double-barrelled rifle, calmly and 
deliberately took aim at her heart, and discharged into it 
first one bullet and then the other. She was then butch- 15 
ered on the most approved principles of woodcraft, and 
furnished a very welcome item to our somewhat limited 
bill of fare. 

In a day or two more we reached the river called the 
" Big Blue." By titles equally elegant almost all the 20 
streams of this region are designated. We had struggled 
through ditches and little brooks all that morning; but on 
traversing the dense woods that lined the banks of the 
Blue, we found that more formidable difficulties awaited 
us, for the stream, swollen by the rains, was wide, deep 25 
and rapid. 

No sooner were we on the spot than R. had flung 
off his clothes, and was swimming across, or splashing 
through the shallows, with the end of a rope between his 
teeth. We all looked on in admiration, wondering what 30 
might be the design of this energetic preparation; but 
soon we heard him shouting : " Give that rope a turn 
round that stump ! You, Sorel ; do you hear ? Look 
sharp, now, Boisverd ! Come over to this side, some of 
you, and help me ! " The men to whom these orders were 35 
directed paid not the least attention to them, though they 
were poured out without pause or intermission. Henry 
Chatillon directed the work, and it proceeded quietly and 



54 The Oregon Trail 

rapidly. R.'s sharp brattling voice might have been 
heard incessantly; and he was leaping about with the 
utmost activity, multiplying himself, after the manner of 
great commanders, as if his universal presence and super- 
5 vision were of the last necessity. His commands were 
rather amusingly inconsistent; for when he saw that the 
men would not do as he told them, he wisely accommo- 
dated himself to circumstances, and with the utmost ve- 
hemence ordered them to do precisely that which they 

10 were at the time engaged upon, no doubt recollecting the 
story of Mahomet and the refractory mountain. Shaw 
smiled significantly; R. observed it, and, approaching 
with a countenance of lofty indignation, began to vapor 
a little, but was instantly reduced to silence. 

15 The raft was at length complete. We piled our goods 
upon it, with the exception of our guns, which each man 
chose to retain in his own keeping. Sorel, Boisverd, 
Wright, and Deslauriers took their stations at the four 
corners, to hold it together and swim across with it; and 

20 in a moment more all our earthly possessions were float- 
ing on the turbid water of the Big Blue. We sat on the 
bank, anxiously watching the result, until we saw the 
raft safely landed in a little cove far down on the oppo- 
site bank. The empty wagons were easily passed across; 

25 and then, each man mounting a horse, we rode through the 
stream, the stray animals following of their own accord. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE PLATTE AND THE DESERT 

" Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 
The seat of desolation?" — Paradise Lost. 

" Here have we war for war, and blood for blood." 

King John. 

We were now arrived at the close of our solitary jour- 
neyings along the St. Joseph trail. On the evening of 
the twenty-third of May we encamped near its junction 
with the old legitimate trail of the Oregon emigrants. 
We had ridden long that afternoon, trying in vain to find 5 
wood and water, until at length we saw the sunset sky 
reflected from a pool encircled by bushes and a rock or 
two. The water lay in the bottom of a hollow, the smooth 
prairie gracefully rising in ocean-like swells on every side. 
We pitched our tents by it ; not, however, before the keen 10 
eye of Henry Chatillon had discerned some unusual ob- 
ject upon the faintly defined outline of the distant swell. 
But in the moist, hazy atmosphere of the evening, nothing 
could be clearly distinguished. As we lay around the fire 
after supper, a low and distant sound, strange enough 15 
amid the loneliness of the prairie, reached our ears — peals 
of laughter, and the faint voices of men and women. 
For eight days we had not encountered a human being, 
and this singular warning of their vicinity had an effect 
extremely wild and impressive. 20 

About dark a sallow-faced fellow descended the hill on 
horseback, and splashing through the pool, rode up to 
the tents. He was enveloped in a huge cloak, and his 
broad felt hat was weeping about his ears with the driz- 
zling moisture of the evening. Another followed, a stout, 25 
square-built, intelligent-looking man, who announced him- 

55 



56 The Oregon Trail 

self as the leader of an emigrant party, encamped a mile 
in advance of us. About twenty wagons, he said, were 
with him; the rest of his party were on the other side of 
the Big Blue, waiting for a woman who was in the pains 

5 of childbirth, and quarrelling meanwhile among them- 
selves. 

These were the first emigrants that we had overtaken, 
although we had found abundant and melancholy traces 
of their progress throughout the whole course of the 

10 journey. Sometimes we passed the grave of one who had 
sickened and died on the way. The earth was usually 
torn up, and covered thickly with wolf-tracks. Some 
had escaped this violation. One morning a piece of 
plank, standing upright on the summit of a grassy hill, 

15 attracted our notice, and riding up to it, we found the 
following words very roughly traced upon it, apparently 
by a red-hot piece of iron: 

MARY ELLIS, 

DIED MAY 7TH, 1845. 

20 AGED TWO MONTHS. 

Such tokens were of common occurrence. Nothing 
could speak more for the hardihood, or rather infatua- 
tion, of the adventurers, or the sufferings that await them 
upon the journey. 

25 We were late in breaking up our camp on the following 
morning, and scarcely had we ridden a mile when we saw, 
far in advance of us, drawn against the horizon, a line of 
objects stretching at regular intervals along the level 
edge of the prairie. An intervening swell soon hid them 

30 from sight, until, ascending it a quarter Of an hour after, 
we saw close before us the emigrant caravan, with its 
heavy white wagons creeping on in their slow procession, 
and a large drove of cattle following behind. Half a 
dozen yellow-visaged Missourians, mounted on horseback, 



The Platte and the Desert 57 

were cursing and shouting among them ; their lank angu- 
lar proportions, enveloped in brown homespun, evidently 
cut and adjusted by the hands of a domestic female tailor. 
As we approached, they greeted us with the polished 
salutation : " How are ye, boys ? Are ye for Oregon or 5 
California? " 

As we pushed rapidly past the wagons, children's faces 
were thrust out from the white coverings to look at us; 
while the care-worn, thin-featured matron, or the buxom 
girl, seated in front, suspended the knitting on which 10 
most of them were engaged, to stare at us with wondering 
curiosity. By the side of each wagon stalked the pro- 
prietor, urging on his patient oxen, who shouldered 
heavily along, inch by inch, on their interminable jour- 
ney. It was easy to see that fear and dissension prevailed 15 
among them; some of the men — but these, with one ex- 
ception, were bachelors — looked wistfully upon us as we 
rode lightly and swiftly past, and then impatiently at 
their own lumbering wagons and heavy-gaited oxen. 
Others were unwilling to advance at all, until the party 20 
they had left behind should have rejoined them. Many 
were murmuring against the leader they had chosen, and 
wished to depose him ; and this discontent was fomented 
by some ambitious spirits, who had hopes of succeeding 
in his place. The women were divided between regrets 25 
for the homes they had left and apprehension of the 
deserts and the savages before them. 

We soon left them far behind, and fondly hoped that 
we had taken a final leave ; but unluckily our companions' 
wagon stuck so long in a deep muddy ditch that before 30 
it was extricated the van of the emigrant caravan ap- 
peared again, descending a ridge close at hand. Wagon 
after wagon plunged through the mud; and as it was 
nearly noon, and the place promised shade and water, we 
saw with much gratification that they were resolved to 35 
encamp. Soon the wagons were wheeled into a circle; 
the cattle were grazing over the meadow, and the men, 
with sour, sullen faces, were looking about for wood and 



58 The Oregon Trail 

water. They seemed to meet with but indifferent success. 
As we left the ground, I saw a tall slouching fellow, with 
the nasal accent of " down east," contemplating the con- 
tents of his tin cup, which he had just filled with water. 

5 " Look here, you," said he; " it's chock-full of animals ! " 
The cup, as he held it out, exhibited in fact an extraor- 
dinary variety and profusion of animal and vegetable life. 
Riding up the little hill, and looking back on the 
meadow, we could easily see that all was not right in 

10 the camp of the emigrants. The men were crowded to- 
gether, and an angry discussion seemed to be going for- 
ward. R. was missing from his wonted place in the line, 
and the Captain told us that he had remained behind to 
get his horse shod by a blacksmith who was attached to 

15 the emigrant party. Something whispered in our ears 
that mischief was on foot; we kept on, however, and com- 
ing soon to a stream of tolerable water, we stopped to rest 
and dine. Still the absentee lingered behind. At last, at 
the distance of a mile, he and his horse suddenly appeared, 

20 sharply defined against the sky on the summit of a hill; 
and close behind, a huge white object rose slowly into 
view. 

"What is that blockhead bringing with him now?" 
A moment dispelled the mystery. Slowly and solemnly, 

25 one behind the other, four long trains of oxen and four 
emigrant wagons rolled over the crest of the declivity 
and gravely descended, while R. rode in state in the van. 
It seems that, during the process of shoeing the horse, 
the smothered dissensions among the emigrants suddenly 

30 broke into open rupture. Some insisted on pushing for- 
ward, some on remaining where they were, and some on 
going back. Kearsley, their captain, threw up his com- 
mand in disgust. " And now, boys," said he, " if any of 
you are for going ahead, just you come along with me." 

35 Four wagons, with ten men, one woman, and one small 
child, made up the force of the "go-ahead" faction; and 
R., with his usual proclivity toward mischief, invited them 
to join our party. Fear of the Indians — for I can con- 



The Platte and the Desert 59 

ceive of no other motive — must have induced him to court 
so burdensome an alliance. As may well be conceived, 
these repeated instances of high-handed dealing sufficiently 
exasperated us. In this case, indeed, the men who joined 
us were all that could be desired ; rude, indeed, in man- 5 
ners, but frank, manly, and intelligent. To tell them we 
could not travel with them was, of course, out of the 
question. I merely reminded Kearsley that if his oxen 
could not keep up with our mules he must expect to be left 
behind, as we could not consent to be farther delayed on 10 
the journey; but he immediately replied that his oxen 
"should keep up; and if they couldn't, why he allowed 
he'd find out how to make 'em ! " Having also availed 
myself of what satisfaction could be derived from giving 
R. to understand my opinion of his conduct, I returned 15 
to our own side of the camp. 

On the next day, as it chanced, our English companions 
broke the axle-tree of their wagon, and down came the 
whole cumbersome machine lumbering into the bed of a 
brook ! Here was a day's work cut out for us. Mean- 20 
while, our emigrant associates kept on their way, and so 
vigorously did they urge forward their powerful oxen, 
that, with the broken axle-tree and other calamities, it 
was full a week before we overtook them ; when at length 
we discovered them, one afternoon, crawling quietly along 25 
the sandy brink of the Platte. But meanwhile various 
incidents occurred to ourselves. 

It was probable that at this stage of our journey the 
Pawnees would attempt to rob us. We began, therefore, 
to stand guard in turn, dividing the night into three 30 
watches, and appointing two men for each. Deslauriers 
and I held guard together. We did not march with mili- 
tary precision to and fro before the tents; our discipline 
was by no means so stringent and rigid. We wrapped 
ourselves in our blankets and sat down by the fire ; and 35 
Deslauriers, combining his culinary functions with his 
duties as sentinel, employed himself in boiling the head of 
an antelope for our morning's repast. Yet we were 



6o The Oregon Trail 

models of vigilance in comparison with some of the party; 
for the ordinary practice of the guard was to establish 
himself in the most comfortable posture he could, lay his 
rifle on the ground, and enveloping his nose in his blanket, 
5 meditate on his mistress, or whatever subject best pleased 
him. This is all well enough when among Indians who 
do not habitually proceed farther in their hostility than 
robbing travellers of their horses and mules; though, in- 
deed, a Pawnee's forbearance is not always to be trusted ; 

10 but in certain regions farther to the west the guard must 

beware how he exposes his person to the light of the fire, 

lest perchance some keen-eyed skulking marksman should 

let fly a bullet or an arrow from amid the darkness. 

Among various tales that circulated around our camp- 

15 fire was a rather curious one, told by Boisverd, and not 
inappropriate here. Boisverd was trapping with several 
companions on the skirts of the Blackfoot country. The 
man on guard, well-knowing that it behooved him to put 
forth his utmost precaution, kept aloof from the fire- 

20 light and sat watching intently on all sides. At length 
he was aware of a dark, crouching figure, stealing noise- 
lessly into the circle of the light. He hastily cocked his 
rifle, but the sharp click of the lock caught the ear of 
Blackfoot, whose senses were all on the alert. Raising 

25 his arrow, already fitted to the string, he shot it in the 
direction of the sound. So sure was his aim, that he drove 
it through the throat of the unfortunate guard, and then, 
with a loud yell, bounded from the camp. 

As I looked at the partner of my watch, puffing and 

30 blowing over his fire, it occurred to me that he might not 
prove the most efficient auxiliary in time of trouble. 

" Deslauriers," said I, " would you run away if the Paw- 
nees should fire at us? " 

" Ah ! oui, oui, Monsieur ! " he replied, very decisively. 

35 I did not doubt the fact, but was a little surprised at 
the frankness of the confession. 

At this instant a most whimsical variety of voices — 
barks, howls, yelps, and whines — all mingled as It were 



The Platte and the Desert 6i 

together, sounded from the prairie, not far off, as if a 
whole conclave of wolves of every age and sex were 
assembled there. Deslauriers looked up from his work 
with a laugh, and began to imitate this curious medley of 
sounds with a most ludicrous accuracy. At this they were 5 
repeated with redoubled emphasis, the musician being 
apparently indignant at the successful efforts of a rival. 
They all proceeded from the throat of one little wolf, not 
larger than a spaniel, seated by himself at some distance. 
He was of the species called the prairie-wolf; a grim- 10 
visaged but harmless little brute, whose worst propensity 
is creeping among horses and gnawing the ropes of raw- 
hide by which they are picketed around the camp. But 
other beasts roam the prairies, far more formidable in 
aspect and in character. These are the large white and 15 
gray wolves, whose deep howl we heard at intervals from 
far and near. 

At last I fell into a doze, and awaking from it, found 
Deslauriers fast asleep. Scandalized by this breach of dis- 
cipline, I was about to stimulate his vigilance by stirring 20 
him with the stock of my rifle; but compassion prevailing, 
I determined to let him sleep awhile, and then arouse him 
and administer a suitable reproof for such forgetfulness 
of duty. Now and then I walked the rounds among the 
silent horses, to see that all was right. The night was 25 
chill, damp, and dark, the dank grass bending under the 
icy dew-drops. At the distance of a rod or two the tents 
were invisible, and nothing could be seen but the obscure 
figures of the horses, deeply breathing, and restlessly start- 
ing as they slept, or still slowly champing the grass. Far 30 
off, beyond the black outline of the prairie, there was a 
ruddy light, gradually increasing like the glow of a con- 
flagration; until at length the broad disk of the moon, 
blood-red, and vastly magnified by the vapors, rose slowly 
upon the darkness, flecked by one or two little clouds; 35 
and as the light poured over the gloomy plain, a fierce 
and stern howl, close at hand, seemed to greet it as an 
unwelcome intruder. There was something impressive 



62 The Oregon Trail 

and awful in the place and the hour ; for I and the beasts 
were all that had consciousness for many a league around. 
Some days elapsed, and brought us near the Platte. 
Two men on horseback approached us one morning, and 
5 we watched them with the curiosity and interest that, 
upon the solitude of the plains, such an encountei always 
excites. They were evidently whites, from their mode 
of riding, though, contrary to the usage of that region, 
neither of them carried a rifle. 

10 " Fools ! " remarked Henry Chatillon, " to ride that way 
on the prairie ; Pawnee find them — then they catch it." 

Pawnee had found them, and they had come very near 
*' catching it " ; indeed, nothing saved them from trouble 
but the approach of our party. Shaw and I knew one of 

15 them, a man named Turner, whom we had seen at West- 
port. He and his companion belonged to an emigrant 
party encamped a few miles in advance, and had returned 
to look for some stray oxen, leaving their rifles, with 
characteristic rashness or ignorance, behind them. Their 

20 neglect had nearly cost them dear; for just before we 
came up, half a dozen Indians approached, and seeing 
them apparently defenceless, one of the rascals seized 
the bridle of Turner's fine horse and ordered him to dis- 
mount. Turner was wholly unarmed; but the other jerked 

25 a little revolving pistol out of his pocket, at which the 
Pawnee recoiled; and just then some of our men appear- 
ing in the distance, the whole party whipped their rugged 
little horses and made off. In no way daunted, Turner 
foolishly persisted in going forward. 

30 Long after leaving him, and late that afternoon, in the 
midst of a gloomy and barren prairie, we came suddenly 
upon the great Pawnee trail, leading from their villages 
on the Platte to their war and hunting grounds to the 
southward. Here every summer pass the motley con- 

35 course ; thousands of savages, men, women, and children, 
horses and mules, laden with their weapons and imple- 
ments, and an innumerable multitude of unruly wolfish 
dogs, who have not acquired the civilized accomplish- 



The Platte and the Desert 63 

ment of barking, but howl like their wild cousins of the 
prairie. 

The permanent winter villages of the Pawnees stand 
on the lower Platte, but throughout the summer the greater 
part of the inhabitants are wandering over the plains, a 5 
treacherous, cowardly banditti, who, by a thousand acts 
of pillage and murder, have deserved summary chastise- 
ment at the hands of government. Last year a Dahcotah 
warrior performed a signal exploit at one of these vil- 
lages. He approached it alone, in the middle of a dark 10 
night, and clambering up the outside of one of the lodges, 
which are in the form of a half-sphere, he looked in at 
the round hole made at the top for the escape of smoke. 
The dusky light from the smouldering embers showed him 
the forms of the sleeping inmates; and dropping lightly 15 
through the opening, he unsheathed his knife, and stirring 
the fire, coolly selected his victims. One by one he stabbed 
and scalped them; when a child suddenly awoke and 
screamed. He rushed from the lodge, yelled a Sioux 
war-cry, shouted his name in triumph and defiance, and 20 
in a moment had darted out upon the dark prairie, leav- 
ing the whole village behind him in a tumult, with the 
howling and baying of dogs, the screams of women, and 
the yells of the enraged warriors. 

Our friend Kearsley, as we learned on rejoining him, 25 
signalized himself by a less bloody achievement. He and 
his men were good woodsmen, and well skilled in the 
use of the rifle, — but found themselves wholly out of their 
element on the prairie. None of them had ever seen a 
buffalo ; and they had very vague conceptions of his nature 30 
and appearance. On the day after they reached the 
Platte, looking toward a distant swell, they beheld a multi- 
tude of little black specks in motion upon its surface. 

" Take your rifles, boys," said Kearsley, " and we'll 
have fresh meat for supper." This inducement was quite 35 
suff7cient. The ten men left their wagons, and set out in 
hot haste, some on horseback and some on foot, in pursuit 
of the supposed buffalo. Meanwhile a high grassy ridge 



64 The Oregon Trail 

shut the game from view; but mounting it after half an 
hour's running and riding, they found themselves sud- 
denly confronted by about thirty mounted Pawnees ! The 
amazement and consternation were mutual. Having noth- 
5 ing but their bows and arrows, the Indians thought their 
hour was come, and the fate that they were no doubt con- 
scious of richly deserving about to overtake them. So 
they began, one and all, to shout forth the most cordial 
salutations of friendship, running up with extreme earnest- 

10 ness to shake hands with the Missourians, who were as 

much rejoiced as they were to escape the expected conflict. 

A low undulating line of sand-hills bounded the horizon 

before us. That day we rode ten consecutive hours, and 

it was dusk before we entered the hollows and gorges of 

15 these gloomy little hills. At length we gained the sum- 
mit, and the long-expected valley of the Platte lay before 
us. We all drew rein, and gathering in a knot on the 
crest of the hill, sat joyfully looking down upon the pros- 
pect. It was right welcome ; strange, too, and striking to 

20 the imagination ; and yet it had not one picturesque or 
beautiful feature, — nor had it any of the features of gran- 
deur, other than its vast extent, its solitude, and its wild- 
ness. For league after league, a plain as level as a frozen 
lake was outspread beneath us ; here and there the Platte, 

25 divided into a dozen thread-like sluices, was traversing it, 
and an occasional clump of wood, rising in the midst like 
a shadowy island, relieved the monotony of the waste. 
No living thing was moving throughout the vast land- 
scape, except the lizards that darted over the sand and 

30 through the rank grass and prickly-pear just at our feet. 
And yet stern and wild associations gave a singular inter- 
est to the view; for here each man lives by the strength 
of his arm and the valor of his heart. Here society is 
reduced to its original elements, the whole fabric of art 

35 and conventionality is struck rudely to pieces, and men 
find themselves suddenly brought back to the wants and 
resources of their original natures. 

We had passed the more toilsome and monotonous part 



The Platte and the Desert 65 

of the journey; but four hundred miles still intervened 
between us and Fort Laramie; and to reach that point 
cost us the travel of three additional wrecks. During the 
whole of this time we were passing up the centre of a long 
narrow sandy plain, reaching, like an outstretched belt, 5 
nearly to the Rocky Mountains. Two lines of sand-hills, 
broken often into the wildest and most fantastic forms, 
flanked the valley at the distance of a mile or two on the 
right and left; while beyond them lay a barren, trackless 
waste — " The Great American Desert " — extending for 10 
hundreds of miles to the Arkansas on the one side, and 
the Missouri on the other. Before us and behind us, the 
level monotony of the plain was unbroken as far as the 
eye could reach. Sometimes it glared in the sun, an ex- 
panse of hot, bare sand; sometimes it was veiled by long 15 
coarse grass. Huge skulls and whitening bones of buffalo 
were scattered everywhere; the ground was tracked by 
myriads of them, and often covered with the circular 
indentations where the bulls had wallowed in the hot 
weather. From every gorge and ravine, opening from 20 
the hills, descended deep, well-worn paths, where the buf- 
falo issue twice a day in regular procession down to drink 
in the Platte. The river itself runs through the midst, a 
thin sheet of rapid, turbid water, half a mile wide, and 
scarce two feet deep. Its low banks, for the most part 25 
without a bush or a tree, are of loose sand, with which the 
stream is so charged that it grates on the teeth in drink- 
ing. The naked landscape is, of itself, dreary and monot- 
onous enough ; and yet the wild beasts and wild men that 
frequent the valley of the Platte make it a scene of inter- 30 
est and excitement to the traveller. Of those who have 
journeyed there, scarce one, perhaps, fails to look back 
with fond regret to his horse and his rifle. 

Early in the morning after we reached the Platte, a 
long procession of squalid savages approached our camp. 35 
Each was on foot, leading his horse by a rope of bull 
hides. His attire consisted merely of a scanty cincture 
and an old buffalo-robe, tattered and begrimed by use, 



66 The Oregon Trail 

which hung over his shoulders. His head was close- 
shaven, except a ridge of hair reaching over the crown 
from the centre of the forehead, very much like the long 
bristles on the back of a hyena, and he carried his bow 
5 and arrows in his hand, while his meagre little horse was 
laden with dried buffalo-meat, the produce of his hunting. 
Such were the first specimens that we met — and very in- 
different ones they were — of the genuine savages of the 
prairie. 

10 They were the Pawnees whom Kearsley had encoun- 
tered the day before, and belonged to a large hunting 
party, known to be ranging the prairie in the vicinity. 
They strode rapidly past, within a furlong of our tents, 
not pausing or looking toward us, after the manner of 

15 Indians when meditating mischief or conscious of ill desert. 
I went out and met them, and had an amicable confer- 
ence with the chief,' presenting him with half a pound of 
tobacco, at which unmerited bounty he expressed much 
gratification. These fellows, or some of their companions, 

20 had committed a dastardly outrage upon an emigrant 
party in advance of us. Two men, out on horseback at 
a distance, were seized by them, but lashing their horses, 
they broke loose and fled. At this the Pawnees raised 
the yell and shot at them, transfixing the hindermost 

25 through the back with several arrows, while his com- 
panion galloped away and brought in the news to his 
party. The panic-stricken emigrants remained for sev- 
eral days in camp, not daring even to send out in quest of 
the dead body. 

30 The reader will recollect Turner, the man whose nar- 
row escape was mentioned not long since. We heard that 
the men whom the entreaties of his wife induced to go 
in search of him, found him leisurely driving along his 
recovered oxen, and whistling in utter contempt of the 

35 Pawnee nation. His party was encamped within two 
miles of us; but we passed them that morning, while the 
men were driving in the oxen, and the women packing 
their domestic utensils and their numerous offspring in 



The Platte and the Desert 67 

the spacious patriarchal wagons. As we looked back we 
saw their caravan dragging its slow length along the plain, 
— wearily toiling on its way to found new empires in the 
West. 

Our New England climate is mild and equable com- 5 
pared with that of the Platte. This very morning, for 
instance, was close and sultry, the sun rising with a faint 
oppressive heat; when suddenly darkness gathered in the 
west, and a furious blast of sleet and hail drove full in our 
faces, icy cold, and urged with such demoniac vehemence 10 
that it felt like a storm of needles. It was curious to see 
the horses; they faced about in extreme displeasure, hold- 
ing their tails like whipped dogs, and shivering as the 
angry gusts, howling louder than a concert of wolves, 
swept over us. Wright's long train of mules came sweep- 15 
ing round before the storm, like a flight of brown snow- 
birds driven by a winter tempest. Thus we all remained 
stationary for some minutes, crouching close to our horses' 
necks, much too surly to speak, though once the Captain 
looked up from between the collars of his coat, his face 20 
blood-red, and the muscles of his mouth contracted by 
the cold into a most ludicrous grin of agony. He grum- 
bled something that sounded like a curse, directed, as we 
believed, against the unhappy hour when he had first 
thought of leaving home. The thing was too good to 25 
last long; and the instant the puffs of wind subsided we 
erected our tents, and remained in camp for the rest of 
a gloomy and lowering day. The emigrants also encamped 
near at hand. We, being first on the ground, had 
appropriated all the wood within reach ; so that our fire 30 
alone blazed cheerily. Around it soon gathered a group 
of uncouth figures, shivering in the drizzling rain. Con- 
spicuous among them were two or three of the half-sav- 
age men who spend their reckless lives in trapping among 
the Rocky Mountains, or in trading for the Fur Company 35 
in the Indian villages. They were all of Canadian ex- 
traction; their hard, weather-beaten faces and bushy 
moustaches looked out from beneath the hoods of their 



68 The Oregon Trail 

white capotes with a bad and brutish expression, as if 
their owner might be the willing agent of any villainy. 
And such in fact is the character of many of these men. 
On the day following we overtook Kearsley's wagons, 

5 and thenceforward, for a week or two, we were fellow- 
travellers. One good effect, at least, resulted from the 
alliance; it materially diminished the serious fatigues of 
standing guard; for the party being now more numerous, 
there were longer intervals between each man's turns of 

10 duty. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE BUFFALO 

" Twice twenty leagues 
Beyond remotest smoke of hunter's camp, 
Roams the majestic brute, in herds that shake 
The earth with thundering steps." — Bryant. 

Four days on the Platte, and yet no buffalo ! Last year's 
signs of them were provokingly abundant ; and wood being 
extremely scarce, we found an admirable substitute in the 
bois de vache, which burns exactly like peat, producing 
no unpleasant effects. The wagons one morning had left 5 
the camp; Shaw and I were already on horseback, but 
Henry Chatillon still sat cross-legged by the dead embers 
of the fire, playing pensively with the lock of his rifle, 
while his sturdy Wyandot pony stood quietly behind him, 
looking over his head. At last he got up, patted the neck 10 
of the pony (whom, from an exaggerated appreciation of 
his merits, he had christened "Five Hundred Dollar"), 
and then mounted with a melancholy air. 

"What is it, Henry?" 

" Ah, I feel lonesome ; I never been here before but I 15 
see away yonder over the buttes, and down there on the 
prairie, black — all black with buffalo ! " 

In the afternoon he and I left the party in search of an 
antelope; until at the distance of a mile or two on the 
right, the tall white wagons and the little black specks 20 
of horsemen were just visible, so slowly advancing that 
they seemed motionless; and far on the left rose the 
broken line of scorched, desolate sand-hills. The vast 
plain waved with tall rank grass that swept our horses' 
bellies ; it swayed to and fro in billows with the light 25 
breeze, and far and near antelope and wolves were mov- 

69 



yo The Oregon Trail 

ing through it, the hairy backs of the latter alternately 
appearing and disappearing as they bounded awkwardly 
along; while the antelope, with he simple curiosity pe- 
culiar to them, would often approach us closely, their little 
5 horns and white throats just visible above the grass tops, 
as they gazed eagerly at us with their round black eyes. 

I dismounted and amused myself with firing at the 
wolves. Henry attentively scrutinized the surrounding 
landscape; at length he gave a shout, and called on me to 

10 mount again, pointing in the direction of the sand-hills. 
A mile and a half from us, two minute black specks slowly 
traversed the face of one of the bare glaring declivities, 
and disappeared behind the summit. " Let us go ! " cried 
Henry, belaboring the sides of " Five Hundred Dollar " ; 

15 and I following in his wake, we galloped rapidly through 
the rank grass toward the base of the hills. 

From one of their openings descended a deep ravine, 
widening as it issued on the prairie. We entered it, and 
galloping up, in a moment were surrounded by the bleak 

20 sand-hills. Half of their steep sides were bare; the rest 
were scantily clothed with clumps of grass and various 
uncouth plants, conspicuous among which appeared the 
reptile-like prickly pear. They were gashed with number- 
less ravines; and as the sky had suddenly darkened, and 

25 a cold gusty wind arisen, the strange shrubs and the 
dreary hills looked doubly wild and desolate. But Henry's 
face was all eagerness. He tore off a little hair from the 
piece of buffalo-robe under his saddle, and threw it up, 
to show the course of the wind. It blew directly before 

30 us. The game were therefore to windward, and it was 
necessary to make our best speed to get round them. 

We scrambled from this ravine, and galloping away 
through the hollows, soon found another, winding like a 
snake among the hills, and so deep that it completely 

35 concealed us. We rode up the bottom of it, glancing 
through the shrubbery at its edge, till Henry abruptly 
jerked his rein and slid out of his saddle. Full a quarter 
of a mile distant, on the outline of the farthest hill, a long 



The Buffalo 71 

procession of buffalo were walking, in Indian file, with 
the utmost gravity and deliberation ; then more appeared, 
clambering from a ho!, w not far off, and ascending, one 
behind the other, the grassy slope of another hill ; then a 
shaggy head and a pair of short broken horns appeared 5 
issuing out of a ravine close at hand, and with a slow, 
stately step, one by one, the enormous brutes came into 
view, taking their way across the valley, wholly uncon- 
scious of an enemy. In a moment Henry was worming 
his way, lying flat on the ground, through grass and 10 
prickly-pears, toward his unsuspecting victims. He had 
with him both my rifle and his own. He was soon out of 
sight, and still the buffalo kept issuing into the valley. 
For a long time all was silent ; I sat holding his horse, and 
wondering what he was about, when suddenly, in rapid 15 
succession, came the sharp reports of the two rifles, and 
the whole line of buffalo, quickening their pace into a 
clumsy trot, gradually disappeared over the ridge of the 
hill. Henry rose to his feet, and stood looking after them. 

" You have missed them," said I. 20 

"Yes," said Henry; "let us go." He descended into 
the ravine, loaded the rifles, and mounted his horse. 

We rode up the hill after the buffalo. The herd was 
out of sight when we reached the top, but lying on the 
grass, not far off, was one quite lifeless, and another 25 
violently struggling in the death agony. 

" You see I miss him ! " remarked Henry. He had fired 
from a distance of more than a hundred and fifty yards, 
and both balls had passed through the lungs, — the true 
mark in shooting buffalo. 30 

The darkness increased, and a driving storm came on. 
Tying our horses to the horns of the victims, Henry began 
the bloody work of dissection, slashing away with the 
science of a connoisseur, while I vainly endeavored to 
imitate him. Old Hendrick recoiled with horror and in- 35 
dignation when I endeavored to tie the meat to the strings 
of rawhide, always carried for this purpose, dangling at 
the back pf the saddle. After some difficulty we overcame 



72 The Oregon Trail 

his scruples ; and heavily burdened with the more eligible 
portions of the buffalo, we set out on our return. Scarcely 
had we emerged from the labyrinth of gorges and ravines, 
and issued upon the open prairie, when the prickling sleet 
5 came driving, gust upon gust, directly in our faces. It 
was strangely dark, though wanting still an hour of sun- 
set. The freezing storm soon penetrated to the skin, but 
the uneasy trot of our heavy-gaited horses kept us warm 
enough, as we forced them unwillingly in the teeth of the 

10 sleet and rain by the powerful suasion of our Indian 
whips. The prairie in this place was hard and level. A 
flourishing colony of prairie-dogs had burrowed into it in 
every direction, and the little mounds of fresh earth 
around their holes were about as numerous as the hills 

15 in a cornfield ; but not a yelp was to be heard ; not the nose 
of a single citizen was visible; all had retired to the depths 
of their burrows, and we envied them their dry and com- 
fortable habitations. An hour's hard riding showed us 
our tent dimly looming through the storm, one side puffed 

20 out by the force of the wind, and the other collapsed in 
proportion, while the disconsolate horses stood shivering 
close around, and the wind kept up a dismal whistling in 
the boughs of three old half-dead trees above. Shaw, like 
a patriarch, sat on his saddle in the entrance, with a pipe 

25 in his mouth and his arms folded, contemplating, with 
cool satisfaction, the piles of meat that we flung on the 
ground before him. A dark and dreary night succeeded ; 
but the sun rose with a heat so sultry and languid that 
the Captain excused himself on that account from way- 

30 laying an old buffalo-bull, who with stupid gravity was 
walking over the prairie to drink at the river. So much 
for the climate of the Platte ! 

But it was not the weather alone that had produced 
this sudden abatement of the sportsman-like zeal which 

35 the Captain had always professed. He had been out on 
the afternoon before, together with several members of 
his party; but their hunting was attended with no other 
result than the loss of one of their best horses, severely 



The Buffalo 73 

injured by Sorel, in vainly chasing a wounded bull. The 
Captain, whose ideas of hard riding were all derived from 
transatlantic sources, expressed the utmost amazement at 
the feats of Sorel, who went leaping ravines, and dashing 
at full speed up and down the sides of precipitous hills, 5 
lashing his horse with the recklessness of a Rocky Moun- 
tain rider. Unfortunately for the poor animal, he was 
the property of R., against whom Sorel entertained an 
unbounded aversion. The Captain himself, it seemed, had 
also attempted to *' run " a buffalo, but though a good 10 
and practised horseman, he had soon given over the at- 
tempt, being astonished and utterly disgusted at the nature 
of the ground he was required to ride over. 

Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on the fol- 
lowing morning, Henry Chatillon, looking over the ocean- 15 
like expanse, saw near the foot of the distant hills some- 
thing that looked like a band of buffalo. He was not sure, 
he said, but at all events, if they were buffalo, there was 
a fine chance for a race. Shaw and I at once determined 
to try the speed of our horses. 20 

" Come, Captain ; we'll see which can ride hardest, a 
Yankee or an Irishman." 

But the Captain maintained a grave and austere coun- 
tenance. He mounted his led horse, however, though 
very slowly ; and we set out at a trot. The game ap- 25 
peared about three miles distant. As we proceeded, the 
Captain made various remarks of doubt and indecision, 
and at length declared he would have nothing to do with 
such a break-neck business ; protesting that he had ridden 
plenty of steeple-chases in his day, but he never knew 30 
what riding was till he found himself behind a band of 
buffalo day before yesterday. " I am convinced," said the 
Captain, " that ' running ' is out of the question.* Take 



* The method of hunting called " running " consists in at- 
tacking the buffalo on horseback, and shooting him with bul- 35 
lets or arrows when at full speed. In " approaching " the 
hunter conceals himself, and crawls on the ground toward 
the game, or lies in wait to kill them. 



74 The Oregon Trail 



my advice now, and don't attempt it. It's dangerous, and 
of no use at all." 

'' Then why did you come out with us ? What do you 
mean to do ? " 
5 "I shall ' approach,' " replied the Captain. 

" You don't mean to ' approach ' with your pistols, do 
you? We have all of us left our rifles in the wagons." 

The Captain seemed staggered at this suggestion. In 
his characteristic indecision at setting out, pistols, rifles, 

10 " running," and " approaching " were mingled in an in- 
extricable medley in his brain. He trotted on in silence 
between us for awhile; but at length he dropped behind, 
and slowly walked his horse back to rejoin the party. 
Shaw and I kept on ; when lo ! as we advanced, the band 

15 of buffalo were transformed into certain clumps of tall 
bushes, dotting the prairie for a considerable distance. 
At this ludicrous termination of our chase, we followed 
the example of our late ally and turned back toward the 
party. We were skirting the brink of a deep ravine, when 

20 we saw Henry and the broad-chested pony coming toward 
us at a gallop. 

" Here's old Papin and Frederic, down from Fort Lara- 
mie ! " shouted Henry, long before he came up. We had 
for some days expected this encounter. Papin was the 

25 bourgeois of Fort Laramie. He had come down the river 
with the buffalo-robes and the beaver, the produce of the 
last winter's trading. I had among our baggage a letter 
which I wished to commit to their hands; so requesting 
Henry to detain the boats if he could until my return, I 

30 set out after the wagons. They were about four miles 
in advance. In half an hour I overtook them, got the 
letter, trotted back upon the trail, and looking carefully 
as I rode, saw a patch of broken, storm-blasted trees, and 
moving near them some little black specks like men and 

35 horses. Arriving at the place, I found a strange assem- 
bly. The boats, eleven in number, deep-laden with the 
skins, hugged close to the shore to escape being borne 
down by the swift current. The rowers, swarthy ignoble 



The Buffalo 75 

Mexicans, turned their brutish faces upward to look as I 
reached the bank. Papin sat in the middle of one of the 
boats, upon the canvas covering that protected the robes. 
He vi^as a stout, robust fellow, with a little gray eye that 
had a peculiarly sly twinkle. " Frederic," also, stretched 5 
his tall raw-boned proportions close by the bourgeois, and 
" mountain men " completed the group ; some lounging in 
the boats, some strolling on shore; some attired in gayly 
painted buffalo-robes, like Indian dandies; some with hair 
saturated with red paint, and beplastered with glue to their 10 
temples ; and one bedaubed with vermilion upon the fore- 
head and each cheek. They were a mongrel race, yet 
the French blood seemed to predominate ; in a few, indeed, 
might be seen the black, snaky eye of the Indian half- 
breed, and one and all, they seemed to aim at assimilating 15 
themselves to their savage associates. 

I shook hands with the bourgeois and delivered the 
letter; then the boats swung round into the stream and 
floated away. They had reason for haste, for already the 
voyage from Fort Laramie had occupied a full month, 20 
and the river was growing daily more shallow. Fifty 
times a day the boats had been aground; indeed, those 
who navigate the Platte invariably spend half their time 
upon sand-bars. Two of these boats, the property of 
private traders, afterward separating from the rest, got 25 
hopelessly involved in the shallows, not very far from 
the Pawnee villages, and were soon surrounded by a 
swarm of the inhabitants. They carried off everything 
that they considered valuable, including most of the robes; 
and amused themselves by tying up the men left on guard, 30 
and soundly whipping them with sticks. 

We encamped that night upon the bank of the river. 
Among the emigrants there was an overgrown boy, some 
eighteen years old, with a head as round and about as 
large as a pumpkin, and fever-and-ague fits had dyed his 35 
face of a corresponding color. He wore an old white hat, 
tied under his chin with a handkerchief; his body was 
short and stout, but his legs of disproportioned and ap- 



76 The Oregon Trail 

palling length. I observed him at sunset, breasting the 
hill with gigantic strides, and standing against the sky 
on the summit, like a colossal pair of tongs. In a moment 
after we heard him screaming frantically behind the ridge, 
5 and nothing doubting that he was in the clutches of In- 
dians or grizzly bears, some of the party caught up their 
rifles and ran to the rescue. His outcries, however, 
proved but an ebullition of joyous excitement; he had 
chased two little wolf pups to their burrow, and he was on 

10 his knees, grubbing away like a dog at the mouth of the 
hole, to get at them. 

Before morning he caused more serious disquiet in the 
pamp. It was his turn to hold the middle-guard; but no 
sooner was he called up than he coolly arranged a pair of 

15 saddle-bags under a wagon, laid his head upon them, 
closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and fell asleep. The 
guard on our side of the camp, thinking it no part of his 
duty to look after the cattle of the emigrants, contented 
himself with watching our own horses and mules; the 

20 wolves, he said, were unusually noisy; but still no mis- 
chief was anticipated until the sun rose, and not a hoof 
or horn was in sight ! The cattle were gone ! While Tom 
was quietly slumbering, the wolves had driven them 
away. 

25 Then we reaped the fruits of R.'s precious plan of 
travelling in company with emigrants. To leave them in 
their distress was not to be thought of, and we felt bound 
to wait until the cattle could be searched for, and, if 
possible, recovered. But the reader may be curious to 

30 know what punishment awaited the faithless Tom. By 
the wholesome law of the prairie, he who falls asleep on 
guard is condemned to walk all day, leading his horse by 
the bridle, and we found much fault with our companions 
for not enforcing such a sentence on the offender. Never- 

35 theless, had he been of our own party, I have no doubt 
that he would in like manner have escaped scot-free. But 
the emigrants went farther than mere forbearance: they 
decreed that since Tom couldn't stand guard without 



The Buffalo 77 

falling asleep, he shouldn't stand guard at all, and hence- 
forward his slumbers were unbroken. Establishing such 
a premium on drowsiness could have no very beneficial 
effect upon the vigilance of our sentinels ; for it is far from 
agreeable, after riding from sunrise to sunset, to feel your 5 
slumbers interrupted by the butt of a rifle nudging your 
side, and a sleepy voice growling in your ear that you 
must get up, to shiver and freeze for three weary hours 
at midnight. 

" Buffalo ! buffalo ! " It was but a grim old bull, roam- 10 
ing the prairie by himself in misanthropic seclusion; but 
there might be more behind the hills. Dreading the mo- 
notony and languor of the camp, Shaw and I saddled 
our horses, buckled our holsters in their places, and set 
out with Henry Chatillon in search of the game. Henry, 15 
not intending to take part in the chase, but merely con- 
ducting us, carried his rifle with him, while we left ours 
behind as incumbrances. We rode for some five or six 
miles and saw no living thing but wolves, snakes, and 
prairie-dogs. 20 

" This won't do at all," said Shaw. 

"What won't do?" 

" There's no wood about here to make a litter for the 
wounded man; I have an idea that- one of us will need 
something of the sort before the day is over." 25 

There was some foundation for such an apprehension, 
for the ground was none of the best for a race, and grew 
worse continually as we proceeded ; indeed it soon became 
desperately bad, consisting of abrupt hills and deep hol- 
lows, cut by frequent ravines not easy to pass. At length, 30 
a mile in advance, we saw a band of bulls. Some were 
scattered grazing over a green declivity, while the rest 
were crowded more densely together in the wide hollow- 
below. Making a circuit, to keep out of sight, we rode 
toward them, until we ascended a hill, within a furlong of 35 
them, beyond which nothing intervened that could pos- 
sibly screen us from their view. We dismounted behind 
the ridge just out of sight, drew our saddle-girths, ex- 



78 The Oregon Trail 

amined our pistols, and mounting again, rode over the 
hill, and descended at a canter toward them, bending close 
to our horses' necks. Instantly they took the alarm ; those 
on the hill descended; those below gathered into a mass, 
5 and the whole got in motion, shouldering each other along 
at a clumsy gallop. We followed, spurring our horses to 
full speed; and as the herd rushed, crowding and tram- 
pling in terror through an opening in the hills, we were 
close at their heels, half suffocated by the clouds of dust. 

10 But as we drew near, their alarm and speed increased ; our 
horses showed signs of the utmost fear, bounding violently 
aside as we approached, and refusing to enter among the 
herd. The buffalo now broke into several small bodies, 
scampering over the hills in different directions, and I lost 

15 sight of Shaw; neither of us knew where the other had 
gone. Old Pontiac ran like a frantic elephant up hill and 
down hill, his ponderous hoofs striking the prairie like 
sledge-hammers. He showed a curious mixture of eager- 
ness and terror, straining to overtake the panic-stricken 

20 herd, but constantly recoiling in dismay as we drew near. 
The fugitives, indeed, offered no very attractive spectacle, 
with their enormous size and weight, their shaggy manes 
and the tattered remnants of their last winter's hair cover- 
ing their backs in irregular shreds and patches, and flying 

25 off in the wind as they ran. At length I urged my horse 
close behind a bull, and after trying in vain by blows and 
spurring to bring him alongside, I shot a bullet into the 
buffalo from this disadvantageous position. At the report 
Pontiac swerved so much that I was again thrown a little 

30 behind the game. The bullet, entering too much in the 
rear, failed to disable the bull, for a buffalo requires to be 
shot at particular points, or he will certainly escape. The 
herd ran up a hill, and I followed in pursuit. As Pontiac 
rushed headlong down on the other side, I saw Shaw and 

35 Henry descending the hollow^ on the right at a leisurely 
gallop; and in front the buffalo were just disappearing 
behind the crest of the next hill, their short tails erect, 
and their hoofs twinkling through a cloud of dust. 



The Buffalo 79 

At that moment, I heard Shaw and Henry shouting to 
me; but the muscles of a stronger arm than mine could not 
have checked at once the furious course of Pontiac, whose 
mouth was as insensible as leather. Added to this, I rode 
him that morning with a common snaffle, having the day 5 
before, for the benefit of my other horse, unbuckled from 
my bridle the curb which I ordinarily used. A stronger 
and hardier brute never trod the prairie; but the novel 
sight of the buffalo filled him with terror, and when at full 
speed he was almost uncontrollable. Gaining the top of 10 
the ridge, I saw nothing of the buffalo; they had all van- 
ished amid the intricacies of the hills and hollows. Re- 
loading my pistols in the best way I could, I galloped on 
until I saw them again scuttling along at the base of the 
hill, their panic somewhat abated. Down went old Pontiac 15 
among them, scattering them to the right and left, and then 
we had another long chase. About a dozen bulls were 
before us, scouring over the hills, rushing down the 
declivities with tremendous weight and impetuosity, and 
then laboring with a weary gallop upward. Still, Pontiac, 20 
in spite of spurring and beating, would not close with 
them. One bull at length fell a little behind the rest, and 
by dint of much effort I urged my horse within six or eight 
yards of his side. His back was darkened with sweat ; he 
was panting heavily, while his tongue lolled out a foot 25 
from his jaws. Gradually I came up abreast of him, urg- 
ing Pontiac with leg and rein nearer to his side, when 
suddenly he did what buffalo in such circumstances will 
always do : he slackened his gallop, and turning toward us, 
with an aspect of mingled rage and distress, lowered his 30 
huge shaggy head for a charge. Pontiac, with a snort, 
leaped aside in terror, nearly throwing me to the ground, 
as I was wholly unprepared for such an evolution. I 
raised my pistol in a passion to strike Jiim on the head, but 
thinking better of it, fired the bullet after the bull, who had 35 
resumed his flight; then drew rein, and determined to 
rejoin my companions. It was high time. The breath 
blew hard from Pontiac's nostrils, and the sweat rolled in 



8o The Oregon Trail 



big drops down his sides; I myself felt as if drenched in 
warm water. Pledging myself (and I redeemed the 
pledge) to take my revenge at a future opportunity, I 
looked around for some indications to show me where I 
5 was, and what course I ought to pursue ; I might as well 
have looked for landmarks in the midst of the ocean. 
How many miles I had run, or in what direction, I had no 
idea; and around me the prairie was rolling in steep 
swells and pitches, without a single distinctive feature to 
10 guide me. I had a little compass hung at my neck ; and 
ignorant that the Platte at this point diverged consider- 
ably from its easterly course, I thought that by keeping to 
the northward I should certainly reach it. So I turned and 
rode about two hours in that direction. The prairie 
15 changed as I advanced, softening away into easier undula- 
tions, but nothing like the Platte appeared, nor any sign 
of a human being; the same wild endless expanse lay 
around me still ; and to all appearance I was as far from 
my object as ever. I began now to consider myself in 
20 danger of being lost; and therefore, reining in my horse, 
summoned the scanty share of woodcraft that I possessed 
(if that term be applicable upon the prairie) to extricate 
me. Looking around, it occurred to me that the buffalo 
might prove my best guides. I soon found one of the 
25 paths made by them in their passage to the river; it ran 
nearly at right angles to my course ; but turning my horse's 
head in the direction it indicated, his freer gait and erected 
ears assured me that I was right. 

But in the meantime my ride had been by no means a 
30 solitary one. The whole face of the country was dotted 
far and wide with countless hundreds of buffalo. They 
trooped along in files and columns, bulls, cows, and calves, 
on the green faces of the declivities in front. They 
scrambled away over the hills to the right and left; and 
35 far off, the pale blue swells in the extreme distance were 
dotted with innumerable specks. Sometimes I surprised 
shaggy old bulls grazing alone, or sleeping behind the 
ridges I ascended. They would leap up at my approach, 



The Buffalo 8i 

stare stupidly at me through their tangled manes, and 
then gallop heavily away. The antelope were very nu- 
merous ; and as they are always bold when in the neighbor- 
hood of buffalo, they would approach quite near to look 
at me, gazing intently with their great round eyes, then 5 
suddenly leap aside and stretch lightly away over the 
prairie, as swiftly as a race-horse. Squalid, ruffian-like 
wolves sneaked through the hollows and sandy ravines. 
Several times I passed through villages of prairie-dogs, 
who sat, each at the mouth of his burrow, holding his paws 10 
before him in a supplicating attitude, and yelping away 
most vehemently, energetically whisking his little tail 
with every squeaking cry he uttered. Prairie-dogs are not 
fastidious in their choice of companions; various long, 
checkered snakes were sunning themselves in the midst of 15 
the village, and demure little gray owls, with a large white 
ring around each eye, were perched side by side with the 
rightful inhabitants. The prairie teemed with life. Again 
and again I looked toward the crowded hill-sides, and was 
sure I saw horsemen; and riding near, with a mixture of 20 
hope and dread, for Indians were abroad, I found them 
transformed into a group of buffalo. There was nothing 
in human shape amid all this vast congregation of brute 
forms. 

When I turned town the buffalo-path, the prairie seemed 25 
changed; only a wolf or two glided past at intervals, like 
conscious felons, never looking to the right or left. Being 
now free from anxiety, I was at leisure to observe mi- 
nutely the objects around me; and here, for the first time, 
I noticed insects wholly different from any of the varieties 30 
found farther to the eastward. Gaudy butterflies fluttered 
about my horse's head; strangely formed beetles, glitter- 
ing with metallic lustre, were crawling upon plants that 
I had never seen before; multitudes of lizards, too, were 
darting like lightning over the sand. 35 

I had run to a great distance from the river. It cost me 
a long ride on the buffalo-path before I saw, from the 
ridge of a sand-hill, the pale surface of the Platte glisten- 



82 The Oregon Trail 

ing in the midst of its desert valleys, and the faint outline 
of the hills beyond waving along the sky. From where I 
stood, not a tree nor a bush nor a living thing was visible 
throughout the whole extent of the sun-scorched land- 
5 scape. In half an hour I came upon the trail, not far from 
the river; and seeing that the party had not yet passed, I 
turned eastward to meet them, old Pontiac's long swinging 
trot again assuring me that I was right in doing so. Hav- 
ing been slightly ill on leaving camp in the morning, six 

10 or seven hours of rough riding had fatigued me extremely. 
I soon stopped, therefore ; flung my saddle on the ground, 
and with my head resting on it, and my horse's trail-rope 
tied loosely to my arm, lay waiting the arrival of the party, 
speculating meanwhile on the extent of the injuries Pon- 

15 tiac had received. At length the white wagon coverings 
rose from the verge of the plain. By a singular coinci- 
dence, almost at the same moment two horsemen appeared 
coming down from the hills. They were Shaw and Henry, 
who had searched for me awhile in the morning, but well 

20 knowing the futility of the attempt in such a broken coun- 
try, had placed themselves on the top of the highest hill 
they could find, and picketing their horses near them, as a 
signal to me, had lain down and fallen asleep. The stray 
cattle had been recovered, as the emigrants told us, about 

25 noon. Before sunset, we pushed forward eight miles 
farther. 

"June 7, 1846. — Four men are missing: R., Sorel, and two 
emigrants. They set out this morning after buffalo, and have 
not yet made their appearance; whether killed or lost, we 
30 cannot tell." 

I find the above in my note-book, and well remember 
the council held on the occasion. Our fire was the scene 
of it; for the palpable superiority of Henry Chatillon's 
experience and skill made him the resort of the whole 
35 camp upon every question of difficulty. He was moulding 
bullets at the fire, when the Captain drew near, with a per- 
turbed and care-worn expression of countenance, faith- 



The Buffalo 83 

fully reflected on the heavy features of Jack, who followed 
close behind. Then emigrants came straggling from their 
wagons toward the common centre; various suggestions 
were made to account for the absence of the four men; and 
one or two of the emigrants declared that when out after 5 
the cattle, they had seen Indians dogging them, and crawl- 
ing like wolves along the ridges of the hills. At this the 
Captain slowly shook his head with double gravity, and 
solemnly remarked: 

. " It's a serious thing to be travelling through this cursed 10 
wilderness " ; an opinion in which Jack immediately ex- 
pressed a thorough coincidence. Henry would not com- 
mit himself by declaring any positive opinion: 

" Maybe he only follow the buffalo too far ; maybe In- 
dian kill him; maybe he got lost; I cannot tell! " 15 

With this the auditors were obliged to rest content ; the 
emigrants, not in the least alarmed, though curious to 
know what had become of their comrades, walked back to 
their wagons, and the Captain betook himself pensively 
to his tent. Shaw and I followed his example. 20 

" It will be a bad thing for our plans," said he as we 
entered, " if these fellows don't get back safe. The Cap- 
tain is as helpless on the prairie as a child. We shall have 
to take him and his brother in tow; they will hang on us 
like lead." 25 

" The prairie is a strange place," said I. " A month ago 
I should have thought it rather a startling affair to have 
an acquaintance ride out in the morning and lose his scalp 
before night, but here it seems the most natural thing in 
the world ; not that I believe that R. has lost his yet." 30 

If a man is constitutionally liable to nervous apprehen- 
sions, a tour on the distant prairies would prove the best 
prescription; for though, when in the neighborhood of the 
Rocky Mountains, he may at times find himself placed 
in circumstances of some danger, I believe that few ever 35 
breathe that reckless atmosphere without becoming almost 
indifferent to any evil chance that may befall themselves 
or their friends. 



84 The Oregon Trail 

Shaw had a propensity for luxurious indulgence. He 
spread his blanket with the utmost accuracy on the ground, 
picked up the sticks and stones that he thought might 
interfere with his comfort, adjusted his saddle to serve 
5 as a pillow, and composed himself for his night's rest. I 
had the first guard that evening ; so, taking my rifle, I went 
out of the tent. It was perfectly dark. A brisk wind 
blew down from the hills, and the sparks from the fire 
were streaming over the prairie. One of the emigrants, 

10 named Morton, was my companion ; and laying our rifles 
on the grass, we sat down together by the fire. Morton 
was a Kentuckian, an athletic fellow, with a fine, intelli- 
gent face, and in his manners and conversation he showed 
the essential characteristics of a gentleman. Our conver- 

15 sation turned on the pioneers of his gallant native state. 
The three hours of our watch dragged away at last, and 
we went to call up the relief. 

R.'s guard succeeded mine. He was absent; but the 
Captain, anxious lest the camp should be left defenceless, 

20 had volunteered to stand in his place ; so I went to wake 
him up. There was no occasion for it, for the Captain had 
been awake since nightfall. A fire was blazing outside of 
the tent, and by the light which struck through the canvas, 
I saw him and Jack lying on their backs with their eyes 

25 wide open. The Captain responded instantly to my call ; 
he jumped up, seized the double-barrelled rifle, and came 
out of the tent with an air of solemn determination, as if 
about to devote himself to the safety of the party. I went 
and lay down, not doubting that for the next three hours 

30 our slumbers would be guarded with sufficient vigilance. 



CHAPTER VIII 

TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 

" Parting is such sweet sorrow ! " — Romeo and Juliet. 

On the eighth of June, at eleven o'clock, we reached 
the South Fork of the Platte, at the usual fording- place. 
For league upon league the desert uniformity of the pros- 
pect was almost unbroken; the hills were dotted with 
little tufts of shrivelled grass, but betwixt these the white 5 
sand was glaring in the sun ; and the channel of the river, 
almost on a level with the plain, was but one great sand- 
bed about half a mile wide. It was covered with water, 
but so scantily that the bottom was scarcely hidden; for, 
wide as it is, the average depth of the Platte does not at 10 
this point exceed a foot and a half. Stopping near its 
bank, we gathered bois de vache and made a meal of 
buffalo-meat. Far off, on the other side, was a green 
meadow, where we could see the white tents and wagons 
of an emigrant camp; and just opposite to us we could 15 
discern a group of men and animals at the water's edge. 
Four or five horsemen soon entered the river, and in ten 
minutes had waded across and clambered up the loose 
sand-bank. They were ill-looking fellows, thin and 
swarthy, with care-worn, anxious faces, and lips rigidly 20 
compressed. They had good cause for anxiety; it was 
three days since they first encamped here, and on the 
night of their arrival they had lost one hundred and 
twenty-three of their best cattle, driven off by the wolves, 
through the neglect of the man on guard. This dis- 25 
couraging and alarming calamity was not the first that 
had overtaken them. Since leaving the settlements, they 
had met with nothing but misfortune. Some of their 

85 



86 The Oregon Trail 

party had died; one man had been killed by the Pawnees; 
and about a week before they had been plundered by the 
Dahcotahs of all their best horses, the wretched animals 
on which our visitors were mounted being the only ones 
5 that were left. They had encamped, they told us, near 
sunset, by the side of the Platte, and their oxen were 
scattered over the meadow, while the band of horses 
were feeding a little farther off. Suddenly the ridges of 
the hills were alive with a swarm of mounted Indians, at 

10 least six hundred in number, who, with a tremendous 
yell, came pouring down toward the camp, rushing up 
within a few rods, to the great terror of the emigrants; 
but suddenly wheeling, they swept around the band of 
horses, and in five minutes had disappeared with their 

15 prey through the openings of the hills. 

As these emigrants v/ere telling their story, we saw 
four other men approaching. They proved to be R. and 
his companions, who had encountered no mischance of 
any kind, but had only wandered too far in pursuit of the 

20 game. They said they had seen no Indians, but only 
" millions of buffalo " ; and both R. and Sorel had meat 
dangling behind their saddles. 

The emigrants recrossed the river, and we prepared to 
follow. First the heavy ox-wagons plunged down the 

25 bank, and dragged slowly over the sand-beds ; sometimes 
the hoofs of the oxen were scarcely wetted by the thin 
sheet of water; and the next moment the river would be 
boiling against their sides, and eddying fiercely around 
the wheels. Inch by inch they receded from the shore, 

30 dwindling every moment, until at length they seemed to 
be floating far out in the very middle of the river. A 
more critical experiment awaited us; for our little mule- 
cart was but ill-fitted for the passage of so swift a stream. 
We watched it with anxiety till it seemed to be a little 

35 motionless white speck in the midst of the waters; and 
it was motionless, for it had stuck fast in a quicksand. 
The little mules were losing their footing, the wheels were 
sinking deeper and deeper, and the water began to rise 



Taking French Leave 87 

through the bottom and drench the goods within. All 
of us who had remained on the hither bank galloped to 
the rescue; the men jumped into the water, adding their 
strength to that of the mules, until by much effort the 
cart was extricated and conveyed in safety across. 5 

As we gained the other bank a rough group of men 
surrounded us. They were not robust, nor large of frame, 
yet they had an aspect of hardy endurance. Finding at 
home no scope for their fiery energies, they had betaken 
themselves to the prairie ; and in them seemed to be re- 10 
vived, with redoubled force, that fierce spirit which im- 
pelled their ancestors, scarce more lawless than themselves, 
from the German forests, to inundate Europe and break 
to pieces the Roman Empire. A fortnight afterward 
this unfortunate party passed Fort Laramie, while we 15 
were there. Not one of their missing oxen had been 
recovered, though they had remained encamped a week in 
search of them; and they had been compelled to abandon 
a great part of their baggage and provisions, and yoke 
cows and heifers to their wagons to carry them forward 20 
upon their journey, the most toilsome and hazardous 
part of which lay still before them. 

It is worth noticing that on the Platte one may some- 
times see the shattered wrecks of ancient claw-footed 
tables, well waxed and rubbed, or massive bureaus of 25 
carved oak. These, many of them no doubt the relics 
of ancestral prosperity in the colonial time, must have 
encountered strange vicissitudes. Imported, perhaps origi- 
nally from England; then, with the declining fortunes of 
their owners, borne across the Alleghanies to the re- 30 
mote wilderness of Ohio or Kentucky; then to Illinois or 
Missouri; and now at last fondly stowed away in the 
family wagon for the interminable journey to Oregon. 
But the stern privations of the way are little anticipated. 
The cherished relic is soon flung out to scorch and crack 35 
upon the hot prairie. 

We resumed our journey; but we had gone scarcely a 
mile, when R. called out from the rear: 



88 The Oregon Trail 

" We'll camp here ! " 

" Why do you want to camp ? Look at the sun. It 
is not three o'clock yet." 
" We'll camp here ! " 
5 This was the only reply vouchsafed. Deslauriers was in 
advance with his cart. Seeing the mule-wagon wheeling 
from the track, he began to turn his own team in the 
same direction. 

" Go on, Deslauriers " ; and the little cart advanced 

10 again. As we rode on, we soon heard the wagon of our 
confederates creaking and jolting on behind us, and the 
driver, Wright, discharging a furious volley of oaths 
against his mules ; no doubt venting upon them the wrath 
which he dared not direct against a more appropriate 

15 object. 

Something of this sort had frequently occurred. Our 
English friend was by no means partial to us, and we 
thought we discovered in his conduct a deliberate inten- 
tion to thwart and annoy us, especially by retarding the 

20 movements of the party, which he knew that we, being 
Yankees, were anxious to quicken. Therefore he would 
insist on encamping at all unseasonable hours, saying 
that fifteen miles was a sufficient day's journey. Finding 
our wishes systematically disregarded, we took the direc- 

25 tion of affairs into our own hands. Keeping always in 
advance, to the inexpressible indignation of R., we en- 
camped at what time and place we thought proper, not 
much caring whether the rest chose to follow or not. 
They always did so, however, pitching their tent near 

30 ours, with sullen and wrathful countenances. 

Travelling together on these agreeable terms did not 
suit our tastes ; for some time we had meditated a separa- 
tion. The connection with this party had caused us 
various delays and inconveniences; and the glaring want 

35 of courtesy and good sense displayed by their virtual 
leader did not dispose us to bear these annoyances with 
much patience. We resolved to leave camp early in the 
morning, and push forward as rapidly as possible for 



Taking French Leave 89 

Fort Laramie, which we hoped to reach, by hard travel- 
ling, in four or five days. The Captain soon trotted up 
between us, and we explained our intentions. 

" A very extraordinary proceeding, upon my word ! " 
he remarked. Then he began to enlarge upon the enor- 5 
mity of the design. The most prominent impression in 
his mind evidently was that we were acting a base and 
treacherous part in deserting his party, in what he con- 
sidered a very dangerous stage of the journey. To palli- 
ate the atrocity of our conduct, we ventured to suggest 10 
that we were only four in number, while his party still 
included sixteen men; and as, moreover, we were to go 
forward and they were to follow, at least a full propor- 
tion of the perils he apprehended would fall upon us. 
But the austerity of the Captain's features would not 15 
relax. " A very extraordinary proceeding, gentlemen ! " 
and repeating this, he rode off to confer with his 
principal. 

By good luck we found a meadow of fresh grass and a 
large pool of rain-water in the midst of it. We encamped 20 
here at sunset. Plenty of buffalo skulls were lying around, 
bleaching in the sun; and sprinkled thickly among the 
grass was a great variety of strange flowers. I had noth- 
ing else to do, and so, gathering a handful, I sat down 
on a buffalo skull to study them. Although the offspring 25 
of a wilderness, their texture was frail and delicate, and 
their colors extremely rich: pure white, dark blue, and a 
transparent crimson. One travelling in this country 
seldom has leisure to think of anything but the stern 
features of the scenery and its accompaniments, or the 30 
practical details of each day's journey. Like them, he 
and his thoughts grow hard and rough. But now these 
flowers suddenly awakened a train of associations as alien 
to the rude scene around me as they were themselves ; and 
for the moment my thoughts went back to New Eng- 35 
land, A throng of fair and well-remembered faces rose, 
vividly as life, before me. " There are good things," 
thought I, " in the savage life, but what can it offer to 



90 The Oregon Trail 

replace those powerful and ennobling influences that can 
reach unimpaired over more than three thousand miles 
of mountains, forests, and deserts?" 

Before sunrise on the next morning our tent was 
5 down; we harnessed our best horses to the cart and left 
the camp. But first we shook hands with our friends the 
emigrants, who sincerely wished us a safe journey, though 
some others of the party might easily have been consoled 
had we encountered an Indian war-party on the way. 

10 The Captain and his brother were standing on the top of 
a hill, wrapped in their plaids, like spirits of the mist, 
keeping an anxious eye on the band of horses below. We 
waved adieu to them as we rode off the ground. The 
Captain replied with a salutation of the utmost dignity, 

15 which Jack tried to imitate; but being little practised in 
the gestures of polite society, his effort was not a very 
successful one. 

In five minutes we had gained the foot of the hills, 
but here we came to a stop. Old Hendrick was in the 

20 shafts, and being the very incarnation of perverse and 
brutish obstinacy, he utterly refused to move. Deslauriers 
lashed and swore till he was tired, but Hendrick stood like 
a rock, grumbling to himself and looking askance at his 
enemy, until he saw a favorable opportunity to take his 

25 revenge, when he struck out under the shaft with such 
cool malignity of intention that Deslauriers only escaped 
the blow by a sudden skip into the air, such as no one but 
a Frenchman could achieve. Shaw and he then joined 
forces, and lashed on both sides at once. The brute 

30 stood still for a while till he could bear it no longer, when 
all at once he began to kick and plunge till he threatened 
the utter demolition of the cart and harness. We glanced 
back at the camp, which was in full sight. Our compan- 
ions, inspired by emulation, were levelling their tents 

35 and driving in their cattle and horses. 
" Take the horse out," said I. 

I took the saddle from Pontiac and put it upon Hen- 
drick; the former was harnessed to the cart in an instant. 



Taking French Leave 91 

" Avance done!" cried Deslauriers. Pontiac strode up 
the hill, twitching the little cart after him as if it were 
a feather's weight; and though, as we gained the top, we 
saw the wagons of our deserted comrades just getting 
into motion, we had little fear that they could overtake 5 
us. Leaving the trail, we struck directly across the coun- 
try, and took the shortest cut to reach the main stream 
of the Platte. A deep ravine suddenly intercepted us. 
We skirted its sides until we found them less abrupt, and 
then plunged through the best way we could. Passing 10 
behind the sandy ravines called " Ash Hollow," we 
stopped for a short nooning at the side of a pool of rain- 
water; but soon resumed our journey, and some hours 
before sunset were descending the ravines and gorges 
opening downward upon the Platte to the west of Ash 15 
Hollow. Our horses waded to the fetlock in sand; the 
sun scorched like fire, and the air swarmed with sand-flies 
and mosquitoes. 

At last we gained the Platte. Following it for about 
five miles, we saw, just as the sun was sinking, a great 20 
meadow, dotted with hundreds of cattle, and beyond 
them an emigrant encampment. A party of about a 
dozen came out to meet us, looking upon us at first with 
cold and suspicious faces. Seeing four men, different in 
appearance and equipment from themselves, emerging 25 
from the hills, they had taken us for the van of the much- 
dreaded Mormons, whom they were very apprehensive 
of encountering. We made known our true character, 
and then they greeted us cordially. They expressed 
much surprise that so small a party should venture to 30 
traverse that region, though in fact such attempts are 
not infrequently made by trappers and Indian traders. 
We rode with them to their camp. The wagons, some 
fifty in number, with here and there a tent intervening, 
were arranged as usual in a circle ; in the area within the 35 
best horses were picketed, and the whole circumference 
was glowing with the dusky light of the fires, displaying 
the forms of the women and children who were crowded 



92 The Oregon Trail 

around them. This patriarchal scene was curious and 
striking enough ; but we made our escape from the place 
with all possible dispatch, being tormented by the in- 
trusive curiosity of the men, who crowded around us. 
5 Yankee curiosity was nothing to theirs. They demanded 
our names, where we came from, where we were going, 
and what was our business. The last query was particu- 
larly embarrassing; since travelling in that country, or 
indeed anywhere, from any other motive than gain, was 

10 an idea of which they took no cognizance. Yet they were 
fine-looking fellows, with an air of frankness, generosity, 
and even courtesy, having come from one of the least 
barbarous of the frontier counties. 

We passed about a mile beyond them and encamped. 

15 Being too few in number to stand guard without exces- 
sive fatigue, we extinguished our fire, lest it should attract 
the notice of wandering Indians ; and picketing our horses 
close around us, slept undisturbed till morning. For three 
days we travelled without interruption, and on the eve- 

20 ning of the third encamped by the well-known spring on 
Scott's Bluff. 

Henry Chatillon and I rode out in the morning, and 
descending the western side of the bluff, were crossing 
the plain beyond. Something that seemed to me a file 

25 of buffalo came into view, descending the hills several 
miles before us. But Henry reined in his horse, and 
keenly peering across the prairie with a better and more 
practised eye, soon discovered its real nature. " Indians ! " 
he said. " Old Smoke's lodges, I b'lieve. Come ! let us 

30 go ! Wah ! get up, now, * Five Hundred Dollar ' ! " And 
laying on the lash with good will, he galloped forward, 
and I rode by his side. Not long after a black speck be- 
came visible on the prairie, full two miles off. It grew 
larger and larger ; it assumed the form of a man and horse ; 

35 and soon we could discern a naked Indian, careering at 
full gallop toward us. When within a furlong he wheeled 
his horse in a wide circle, and made him describe various 
mystic figures upon the prairie; and Henry immediately 



Taking French Leave 93 - 

compelled " Five Hundred Dollar " to execute similar 
evolutions. " It is Old Smoke's village," said he, inter- 
preting these signals; "didn't I say so?" 

As the Indian approached we stopped to wait for him, 
when suddenly he vanished, sinking, as it were, into the 5 
earth. He had come upon one of the deep ravines that 
everywhere intersect these prairies. In an instant the 
rough head of his horse stretched upward from the edge, 
and the rider and steed came scrambling out and bounded 
up to us; a sudden jerk of the rein brought the wild pant- 10 
ing horse to a full stop. Then followed the needful for- 
mality of shaking hands. I forget our visitor's name. 
He was a young fellow, of no note in his nation; yet in his 
person and equipments he was a good specimen of a 
Dahcotah warrior in his ordinary travelling dress. Like 15 
most of his people, he was nearly six feet high; lithely 
and gracefully, yet strongly proportioned; and with a 
skin singularly clear and delicate. He wore no paint; 
his head was bare; and his long hair was gathered in a 
clump behind, to the top of which was attached trans- 20 
versely, both by way of ornament and of talisman, the 
mystic whistle, made of the wing-bone of the war-eagle, 
and endowed with various magic virtues. From the back 
of his head descended a line of glittering brass plates, 
tapering from the size of a doubloon to that of a half dime, 25 
a cumbrous ornament, in high vogue among the Dahco- 
tahs, and for which they pay the traders a most extrava- 
gant price; his chest and arms were naked; the buffalo- 
robe worn over them when at rest had fallen about his 
waist and was confined there by a belt. This, with the 30 
gay moccasins on his feet, completed his attire. For 
arms he carried a quiver of dog-skin at his back, and a 
rude but powerful bow in his hand. His horse had no 
bridle; a cord of hair, lashed around his jaw, served in 
place of one. The saddle was of most singular construe- 35 
tion; it was made of wood covered with raw-hide, and 
both pommel and cantle rose perpendicularly full eighteen 
inches, so that the warrior was wedged firmly in his seat, 



94 The Oregon Trail 

whence nothing could dislodge him but the bursting of 
the girths. 

Advancing with our new companion, we found more of 
his people seated in a circle on the top of a hill ; while a 
5 rude procession came straggling down the neighboring 
hollow, men, women, and children, with horses dragging 
the lodge-poles behind them. All that morning, as we 
moved forward, tall savages were stalking silently about 
us. At noon we reached Horse Creek; and as we waded 

10 through the shallow water, we saw a wild and striking 
scene. The main body of the Indians had arrived before 
us. On the farther bank stood a large and strong man, 
nearly naked, holding a white horse by a long cord, and 
eyeing us as we approached. This was the chief, whom 

15 Henry called " Old Smoke." Just behind him his young- 
est and favorite squaw sat astride of a fine mule; it was 
covered with caparisons of whitened skins, garnished with 
blue and white beads, and fringed with little ornaments of 
metal that tinkled with every movement of the animal. 

20 The girl had a light clear complexion, enlivened by a spot 
of vermilion on each cheek ; she smiled, not to say grinned, 
upon us, showing two gleaming rows of white teeth. In 
her hand she carried the tall lance of her unchivalrous 
lord, fluttering with feathers ; his round white shield hung 

25 at the side of her mule ; and his pipe was slung at her back. 
Her dress was a tunic of deer-skin, made beautifully white 
by means of a species of clay found on the prairie, and 
ornamented with beads, arrayed in figures more gay than 
tasteful, and with long fringes at all the seams. Not far 

30 from the chief stood a group of stately figures, their white 
buffalo-robes thrown over their shoulders, gazing coldly 
upon us ; and in the rear, for several acres, the ground was 
covered with a temporary encampment ; men, women, and 
children swarmed like bees; hundreds of dogs, of all sizes 

35 and colors, ran restlessly about ; and, close at hand, the 
wide shallow stream was alive with boys, girls, and young 
squaws, splashing, screaming, and laughing in the water. 
At the same time a long train of emigrant wagons were 



Taking French Leave 95 

crossing the creek, and, dragging on in their slow, heavy 
procession, passed the encampment of the people whom 
they and their descendants, in the space of a century, are 
to sweep from the face of the earth. 

The encampment itself was merely a temporary one 5 
during the heat of the day. None of the lodges were 
erected; but their heavy leather coverings, and the long 
poles used to support them, were scattered everywhere 
around, among weapons, domestic utensils, and the rude 
harness of mules and horses. The squaws of each lazy 10 
warrior had made him a shelter from the sun by stretching 
a few buffalo-robes or the corner of a lodge-covering upon 
poles ; and here he sat in the shade, with a favorite young 
squaw, perhaps, at his side, glittering with all imaginable 
trinkets. Before him stood the insignia of his rank as a 15 
warrior, his white shield of bull-hide, his medicine-bag, 
his bow and quiver, his lance and his pipe, raised aloft on 
a tripod of three poles. Except the dogs, the most active 
and noisy tenants of the camp were the old women, ugly 
as Macbeth's witches, with their hair streaming loose in 20 
the wind, and nothing but the tattered fragment of an old 
buffalo-robe to hide their shrivelled wiry limbs. The day 
of their favoritism passed two generations ago; now the 
heaviest labors of the camp devolved upon them; they 
were to harness the horses, pitch the lodges, dress the 25 
buffalo-robes, and bring in meat for the hunters. With 
the cracked voices of these hags, the clamor of dogs, the 
shouting and laughing of children and girls, and the list- 
less tranquillity of the warriors, the whole scene had an 
effect too lively and picturesque ever to be forgotten. 30 

We stopped not far from the Indian camp, and having 
invited some of the chiefs and warriors to dinner, placed 
before them a sumptuous repast of biscuit and coffee. 
Squatted in a half circle on the ground, they soon disposed 
of it. As we rode forward on the afternoon journey, sev- 35 
eral of our late guests accompanied us. Among the rest 
was a huge bloated savage, of more than three hundred 
pounds' weight, christened Le Cochon, in consideration of 



96 The Oregon Trail 

his preposterous dimensions, and certain corresponding 
traits of his character. " The Hog " bestrode a little white 
pony, scarce able to bear up under the enormous burden, 
though, by way of keeping up the necessary stimulus, the 
5 rider kept both feet in constant motion, playing alter- 
nately against his ribs. The old man was not a chief; he 
never had ambition enough to become one; he was not a 
warrior nor a hunter, for he was too fat and lazy; but he 
was the richest man in the whole village. Riches among 

10 the Dahcotahs consist in horses, and of these " The Hog " 
had accumulated more than thirty. He had already ten 
times as many as he wanted, yet still his appetite for horses 
was insatiable. Trotting up to me, he shook me by the 
hand, and gave me to understand that he was a very de- 

15 voted friend; and then he began a series of most earnest 
signs and gesticulations, his oily countenance radiant with 
smiles, and his little eyes peeping out with a cunning 
twinkle from between the masses of flesh that almost 
obscured them. Knowing nothing at that time of the 

20 sign-language of tl^e Indians, I could only guess at his 
meaning. So I called on Henry to explain it. 

" The Hog," it seems, was anxious to conclude a matri- 
monial bargain. He said he had a very pretty daughter 
in his lodge, whom he would give me, if I would give him 

25 my horse. These flattering overtures I chose to reject; at 
which " The Hog," still laughing with undiminished good 
humor, gathered his robe about his shoulders and rode 
away. 

Where we encamped that night, an arm of the Platte ran 

30 between high bluffs; it was turbid and swift as heretofore, 
but trees were growing on its crumbling banks, and there 
was a nook of grass between the water and the hill. Just 
before entering this place, we saw the emigrants encamp- 
ing at two or three miles' distance on the right ; while the 

35 whole Indian rabble were pouring down the neighboring 
hill in hope of the same sort of entertainment which they 
had experienced from us. In the savage landscape before 
our camp, nothing but the rushing of the Platte broke the 



Taking French Leave 97 

silence. Through the ragged boughs of the trees, dilapi- 
dated and half dead, we saw the sun setting in crimson 
behind the peaks of the Black Hills ; the restless bosom of 
the river was suffused with red ; our white tent was tinged 
with it, and the sterile bluffs, up to the rocks that crowned 5 
them, partook of the same fiery hue. It soon passed away; 
no light remained but that from our fire, blazing high 
among the dusky trees and bushes. We lay around it 
wrapped in our blankets, smoking and conversing until a 
late hour, and then withdrew to our tent. 10 

We crossed a sun-scorched plain on the next morning, 
the line of old cotton-wood trees that fringed the bank of 
the Platte forming its extreme verge. Nestled apparently 
close beneath them, we could discern in the distance some- 
thing like a building. As we came nearer, it assumed 15 
form and dimensions, and proved to be a rough structure 
of logs. It was a little trading fort, belonging to two 
private traders, and originally intended, like all the forts 
of the country, to form a hollow square, with rooms for 
lodging and storage opening upon the area within. Only 20 
two sides of it had been completed; the place was now as 
ill-fitted for the purposes of defence as any of those little 
log-houses which upon our constantly-shifting frontier 
have been so often successfully maintained against over- 
whelming odds of Indians. Two lodges were pitched close 25 
to the fort ; the sun beat scorching upon the logs ; no living 
thing was stirring except one old squaw, who thrust her 
round head from the opening of the nearest lodge, and 
three or four stout young pups, who were peeping with 
looks of eager inquiry from under the covering. In a 30 
moment a door opened, and a little swarthy, black-eyed 
Frenchman came out. His dress was rather singular : his 
black curling hair was parted in the middle of his head, 
and fell below his shoulders; he wore a tight frock of 
smoked deer-skin, very gayly ornamented with figures 35 
worked in dyed porcupine-quills. His moccasins and 
leggings were also gaudily adorned in the same manner; 
and the latter had in addition a line of long fringes, 



98 The Oregon Trail 

reaching down the seams. The small frame of Richard, 
for by this name Henry made him known to us, was in 
the highest degree athletic and vigorous. There was no 
superfluity, and indeed there seldom is among the active 
5 white men of this country, but every limb was compact 
and hard ; every sinew had its full tone and elasticity, and 
the whole man wore an air of mingled hardihood and 
buoyancy. 

Richard committed our horses to a Navaho slave, a 

10 mean-looking fellow, taken prisoner on the Mexican fron- 
tier; and relieving us of our rifles with ready politeness, 
led the way into the principal apartment of his establish- 
ment. This was a room ten feet square. The walls and 
floor were of black mud, and the roof of rough timber; 

15 there was a huge fireplace made of four flat rocks, picked 
up on the prairie. An Indian bow and otter-skin quiver, 
several gaudy articles of Rocky Mountain finery, an In- 
dian medicine-bag, and a pipe and tobacco-pouch gar- 
nished the walls, and rifles rested in a corner. There was 

20 no furniture except a sort of rough settle, covered with 
buffalo-robes, upon which lolled a tall half-breed, with his 
hair glued in masses upon each temple, and saturated with 
vermilion. Two or three more " mountain men " sat cross- 
legged on the floor. Their attire was not unlike that of 

25 Richard himself; but the most striking figure of the group 
was a naked Indian boy of sixteen, with a handsome face, 
and light, active proportions, who sat in an easy posture 
in the corner near the door. Not one of his limbs moved 
the breadth of a hair ; his eye was fixed immovably, not on 

30 any person present, but, as it appeared, on the projecting 
corner of the fireplace opposite to him. 

On these prairies the custom of smoking with friends is 
seldom omitted, whether among Indians or whites. The 
pipe, therefore, was taken from the wall, and its great red 

35 bowl crammed with the tobacco and shongsasha, mixed in 
suitable proportions. Then it passed round the circle, 
each man inhaling a few whiffs and handing it to his 
neighbor. Having spent half an hour here, we took our 



Taking French Leave 99 

leave; first inviting our new friends to drink a cup of 
coffee with us at our camp, a mile farther up the river. 

By this time, as the reader may conceive, we had grown 
rather shabby ; our clothes had burst into rags and tatters ; 
and what was worse, we had very little means of renova- 5 
tion. Fort Laramie was but seven miles before us. Be- 
ing totally averse to appearing in such a plight among 
any society that could boast an approximation to the 
civilized, we soon stopped by the river to make our toilet 
in the best way we could. We hung up small looking- 10 
glasses against the trees and shaved, an operation 
neglected for six weeks; we performed our ablutions in 
the Platte, though the utility of such a proceeding was 
questionable, the water looking exactly like a cup of 
chocolate, and the banks consisting of the softest and 15 
richest yellow mud, so that we were obliged, as a prelimi- 
nary, to build a causeway of stout branches and twigs. 
Having also put on radiant moccasins, procured from a 
squaw of Richard's establishment, and made what other 
improvements our narrow circumstances allowed, we took 20 
our seats on the grass with a feeling of greatly increased 
respectability, to await the arrival of our guests. They 
came; the banquet was concluded, and the pipe smoked. 
Bidding them adieu, we turned our horses' heads toward 
the fort. 25 

An hour elapsed. The barren hills closed across our 
front, and we could see no farther; until, having sur- 
mounted them, a rapid stream appeared at the foot of the 
descent, running into the Platte; beyond was a green 
meadow, dotted with bushes, and in the midst of these, 30 
at the point where the two rivers joined, were the low clay 
walls of a fort. This was not Fort Laramie, but another 
post of less recent date, which having sunk before its suc- 
cessful competitor, was now deserted and ruinous. A 
moment after, the hills, seeming to draw apart as we 35 
advanced, disclosed Fort Laramie itself, its high bastions 
and perpendicular walls of clay crowning an eminence 
on the left beyond the stream, while behind stretched a line 



lOO The Oregon Trail 

of arid and desolate ridges, and behind these again, tower- 
ing aloft seven thousand feet, arose the grim Black Hills. 

We tried to ford Laramie Creek at a point nearly oppo- 
site the fort, but the stream, swollen with the rains in the 
5 mountains, was too rapid. We passed up along its bank 
to find a better crossing place. Men gathered on the wall 
to look at us. *' There's Bordeaux ! " called Henry, his 
face brightening as he recognized his acquaintance ; " him 
there with the spy-glass; and there's old Vaskiss, and 
10 Tucker, and May ; and, by George ! there's Cimoneau ! " 
This Cimoneau was Henry's fast friend, and the only man 
in the country who could rival him in hunting. 

We soon found a ford. Henry led the way, the pony 
approaching the bank with a countenance of cool indif- 
15 ference, bracing his feet and sliding into the stream with 
the most unmoved composure: 

" At the first plunge the horse sunk low, 
And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow." 

We followed; the water boiled against our saddles, but 
20 our horses bore us easily through. The unfortunate little 
mules came near going down with the current, cart and 
all ; and we watched them with some solicitude scrambling 
over the loose round stones at the bottom, and bracing 
stoutly against the stream. All landed safely at last; we 
25 crossed a little plain, descended a hollow, and riding up a 
steep bank, found ourselves before the gateway of Fort 
Laramie, under the impending blockhouse erected above 
it to defend the entrance. 



CHAPTER IX 

SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 

" 'Tis true they are a lawless brood, 
But rough in form, nor mild in mood." 

The Bride of Abydos. 

Looking back, after the expiration of a year, upon Fort 
Laramie and its inmates, they seem less like a reality than 
like some fanciful picture of the olden time; so different 
was the scene from any which this tamer side of the world 5 
can present. Tall Indians, enveloped in their white 
buffalo-robes, were striding across the area or reclining at 
full length on the low roofs of the buildings which in- 
closed it. Numerous squaws, gayly bedizened, sat grouped 
in front of the apartments they occupied; their mongrel 10 
offspring, restless and vociferous, rambled in every direc- 
tion through the fort; and the trappers, traders, and 
engages of the establishment were busy at their labor or 
their amusements. 

We were met at the gate, but by no means cordially 15 
welcomed. Indeed we seemed objects of some distrust 
and suspicion, until Henry Chatillon explained that we 
were not traders, and we, in confirmation, handed to the 
bourgeois a. letter of introduction from his principals. He 
took it, turned it upside down, and tried hard to read it ; 20 
but his literary attainments not being adequate to the 
task, he applied for relief to the clerk, a sleek, smiling 
Frenchman, named Montalon. The letter read, Bordeaux 
(the bourgeois) seemed gradually to awaken to a sense of 
what was expected of him. Though not deficient in hos- 25 
pitable intentions, he was wholly unaccustomed to act as 
master of ceremonies. Discarding all formalities of re- 



I02 The Oregon Trail 

ception, he did not honor us with a single word, but walked 
swiftly across the area, while we followed in some admira- 
tion to a railing and a flight of steps opposite the entrance. 
He signed to us that we had better fasten our horses to the 

5 railing ; then he walked up the steps, tramped along a rude 
balcony, and kicking open a door, displayed a large room, 
rather more elaborately finished than a barn. For furni- 
ture it had a rough bedstead, but no bed; two chairs, a 
chest of drawers, a tin pail to hold water, and a board to 

10 cut tobacco upon. A brass crucifix hung on the wall, and 
close at hand a recent scalp, with hair full a yard long, 
was suspended from a nail. I shall again have occasion 
to mention this dismal trophy, its history being connected 
with that of our subsequent proceedings. 

15 This apartment, the best in Fort Laramie, was that us- 
ually occupied by the legitimate bourgeois, Papin; in 
whose absence the command devolved upon Bordeaux. 
The latter, a stout, bluff little fellow, much inflated by a 
sense of his new authority, began to roar for buffalo- 

20 robes. These being brought and spread upon the floor 
formed our beds; much better ones than we had of late 
been accustomed to. Our arrangements made, we stepped 
out to the balcony to take a more leisurely survey of the 
long-looked-for haven at which we had arrived at last. 

2.5 Beneath us was the square area surrounded by little 
rooms, or rather cells, which opened upon it. These were 
devoted to various purposes, but served chiefly for the 
accommodation of the men employed at the fort, or of the 
equally numerous squaws whom they were allowed to 

30 maintain in it. Opposite to us rose the blockhouse above 
the gateway ; it was adorned with a figure which even now 
haunts my memory — a horse at full speed, daubed upon the 
boards with red paint, and exhibiting a degree of skill 
that might rival that displayed by the Indians in executing 

35 similar designs upon their robes and lodges. A busy 
scene was enacting in the area. The wagons of Vaskiss, 
an old trader, were about to set out for a remote post in 
the mountains, and the Canadians were going through 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 103 

their preparations with all possible bustle, while here and 
there an Indian stood looking on with imperturbable 
gravity. 

Fort Laramie is one of the posts established by the 
" American Fur Company," who well-nigh monopolize the 5 
Indian trade of this whole region. Here their officials 
rule with an absolute sway; the arm of the United States 
has little force ; for when we were there, the extreme out- 
posts of her troops were about seven hundred miles to the 
eastward. The little fort is built of bricks dried in the 10 
sun, and externally is of an oblong form, with bastions of 
clay, in the form of ordinary blockhouses, at two of the 
corners. The walls are about fifteen feet high, and sur- 
mounted by a slender palisade. The roofs of the apart- 
ments within, which are built close against the walls, 15 
serve the purpose of a banquette. Within, the fort is 
divided by a partition; on one side is the square area, 
surrounded by the store-rooms, offices, and apartments of 
the inmates; on the other is the corral, a narrow place, 
encompassed by the high clay walls, where at night, or in 20 
presence of dangerous Indians, the horses and mules of the 
fort are crowded for safe keeping. The main entrance 
has two gates, with an arched passage intervening. A 
little square window, quite high above the ground, opens 
laterally from an adjoining chamber into this passage; 25 
so that when the inner gate is closed and barred, a person 
without may still hold communication with those within, 
through this narrow aperture. This obviates the necessity 
of admitting suspicious Indians, for purposes of trading, 
into the body of the fort; for when danger is appre- 30 
hended, the inner gate is shut fast, and all traffic is carried 
on by means of the little window. This precaution, though 
highly necessary at some of the company's posts, is now 
seldom resorted to at Fort Laramie ; where, though men 
are frequently killed in its neighborhood, no apprehen- 35 
sions are now entertained of any general designs of 
hostility from the Indians. 

We did not long enjoy our new quarters undisturbed. 



I04 The Oregon Trail 

The door was silently pushed open, and two eyeballs and a 
visage as black as night looked in upon us ; then a red arm 
and shoulder intruded themselves, and a tall Indian, glid- 
ing in, shook us by the hand, grunted his salutation, and 
5 sat down on the floor. Others followed, with faces of the 
natural hue ; and letting fall their heavy robes from their 
shoulders, they took their seats, quite at ease, in a semi- 
circle before us. The pipe was now to be lighted and 
passed round from one to another; and this was the only 

10 entertainment that at present they expected from us. 
These visitors were fathers, brothers, or other relatives of 
the squaws in the fort, where they were permitted to 
remain, loitering about in perfect idleness. All those who 
smoked with us were men of standing and repute. Two or 

15 three others dropped in also; young fellows who neither 
by their years nor their exploits were entitled to rank with 
the old men and warriors, and who, abashed in the pres- 
ence of their superiors, stood aloof, never withdrawing 
their eyes from us. Their cheeks were adorned with ver- 

20 milion, their ears with pendants of shell, and their necks 
with beads. Never yet having signalized themselves as 
hunters, or performed the honorable exploit of killing a 
man, they were held in slight esteem, and were diffident 
and bashful in proportion. Certain formidable inconven- 

25 iences attended this influx of visitors. They were bent on 
inspecting everything in the room; our equipments and 
our dress alike underwent their scrutiny; for though the 
contrary has been carelessly asserted, few beings have 
more curiosity than Indians in regard to subjects within 

30 their ordinary range of thought. As to other matters, 
indeed, they seem utterly indifferent. They will not trouble 
themselves to inquire into what they cannot comprehend, 
but are quite contented to place their hands over their 
mouths in token of wonder, and exclaim that it is " great 

35 medicine." With this comprehensive solution, an Indian 
never is at a loss. He never launches forth into specula- 
tion and conjecture; his reason moves in its beaten track. 
His soul is dormant; and no exertions of the missionaries, 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 105 

Jesuit or Puritan, of the Old World or of the New, have 
as yet availed to rouse it. 

As we were looking, at sunset, from the wall, upon the 
wild and desolate plains that surround the fort, we ob- 
served a cluster of strange objects, like scaffolds, rising in 5 
the distance against the red western sky. They bore aloft 
some singular-looking burdens, and at their foot glim- 
mered something white, like bones. This was the place of 
sepulture of some Dahcotah chiefs, whose remains their 
people are fond of placing in the vicinity of the fort, in the 10 
hope that they may thus be protected from violation at 
the hands of their enemies. Yet it has happened more 
than once, and quite recently, that war-parties of the 
Crow Indians, ranging through the country, have thrown 
the bodies from the scaffolds and broken them to pieces, 15 
amid the yells of the Dahcotahs, who remained pent up 
in the fort, too few to defend the honored relics from 
insult. The white objects upon the ground were buffalo 
skulls, arranged in the mystic circle commonly seen in 
Indian places of sepulture upon the prairie. 20 

We soon discovered, in the twilight, a band of fifty or 
sixty horses approaching the fort. These were the ani- 
mals belonging to the establishment, who having been 
sent out to feed, under the care of armed guards, in the 
meadows below, were now being driven into the corral for 25 
the night. A little gate opened into this inclosure ; by the 
side of it stood one of the guards, an old Canadian, with 
gray bushy eyebrows, and a dragoon-pistol stuck into his 
belt; while his comrade, mounted on horseback, his rifle 
laid across the saddle in front of him, and his long hair 30 
blowing before his swarthy face, rode at the rear of the 
disorderly troop, urging them up the ascent. In a moment 
the narrow corral was thronged with the half -wild horses, 
kicking, biting, and crowding restlessly together. 

The discordant jingling of a bell, rung by a Canadian in 35 
the area, summoned us to supper. This sumptuous repast 
was served on a rough table in one of the lower apart- 
ments of the fort, and consisted of cakes of bread and 



io6 The Oregon Trail 

dried buffalo-meat — an excellent thing for strengthening 
the teeth. At this meal were seated the bourgeois and 
superior dignitaries of the establishment, among whom 
Henry Chatillon was worthily included. No sooner was it 

5 finished, than the table was spread a second time (the 
luxury of bread being now, however, omitted) for the 
benefit of certain hunters and trappers of an inferior 
standing; while the ordinary Canadian engages were re- 
galed on dried meat in one of their lodging rooms. By 

10 way of illustrating the domestic economy of Fort Laramie, 
it may not be amiss to introduce in this place a story cur- 
rent among the men when we were there. 

There was an old man named Pierre, whose duty it was 
to bring the meat from the store-room for the men. Old 

15 Pierre, in the kindness of his heart, used to select the 
fattest and the best pieces for his companions. This did 
not long escape the keen-eyed bourgeois, who was greatly 
disturbed at such improvidence, and cast about for some 
means to stop it. At last he hit on a plan that exactly 

20 suited him. At the side of the meat-room, and separated 
from it by a clay partition, was another apartment, used 
for the storage of furs. It had no other communication 
with the fort, except through a square hole in the parti- 
tion; and of course it was perfectly dark. One evening 

25 the bourgeois, watching for a moment when no one 
observed him, dodged into the meat-room, clambered 
through the hole, and ensconced himself among the furs 
and buffalo-robes. Soon after old Pierre came in with 
his lantern; and, muttering to himself, began to pull over 

30 the bales of meat and select the best pieces, as usual. But 
suddenly a hollow and sepulchral voice proceeded from 
the inner apartment : " Pierre ! Pierre ! Let that fat 
meat alone ! Take nothing but lean ! " Pierre dropped 
his lantern and bolted out into the fort, screaming, in an 

35 agony of terror, that the devil was in the store-room; but 
tripping on the threshold, he pitched over upon the gravel 
and lay senseless, stunned by the fall. The Canadians 
ran out to the rescue. Some lifted the unlucky Pierre; 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 107 

and others, making an extempore crucifix out of two 
sticks, were proceeding to attack the devil in his strong- 
hold, when the bourgeois, with a crestfallen countenance, 
appeared at the door. To add to the bourgeois's mortifica- 
tion, he was obliged to explain the whole stratagem to 5 
Pierre, in order to bring the latter to his senses. 

We were sitting, on the following morning, in the pas- 
sageway between the gates, conversing with the traders 
Vaskiss and May. These two men, together with our 
sleek friend, the clerk Montalon, were, I believe, the only 10 
persons then in the fort who could read and write. May 
was telling a curious story about the traveller Catlin, when 
an ugly, diminutive Indian, wretchedly mounted, came up 
at a gallop and rode past us into the fort. On being ques- 
tioned, he said that Smoke's village was close at hand. 15 
Accordingly only a few minutes elapsed before the hills 
beyond the river v/ere covered with a disorderly swarm of 
savages, on horseback and on foot. May finished his 
story; and by that time the whole array had descended to 
Laramie Creek, and commenced crossing it in a mass. I 20 
walked dow^n to the bank. The stream is wide, and was 
then between three and four feet deep, with a very swift 
current. For several rods the water was alive with dogs, 
horses, and Indians. The long poles used in erecting the 
lodges are carried by the horses, being fastened by the 25 
heavier end, two or three on each side, to a rude sort of 
pack-saddle, while the other end drags on the ground. 
About a foot behind the horse, a kind of large basket or 
pannier is suspended between the poles, and firmly lashed 
in its place. On the back of the horse are piled various 30 
articles of luggage ; the basket also is well filled with do- 
mestic utensils, or, quite as often, with a litter of puppies, 
a brood of small children, or a superannuated old man. 
Numbers of these curious vehicles, called, in the bastard 
language of the country, travaux, were now splashing to- 35 
gether through the stream. Among them swam countless 
dogs, often burdened with miniature travaux; and dash- 
ing forward on horseback through the throng came the 



io8 The Oregon Trail 

superbly formed warriors, the slender figure of some lynx- 
eyed boy clinging fast behind them. The women sat 
perched on the pack-saddles, adding not a little to the 
load of the already over-burdened horses. The confusion 
5 was prodigious. The dogs yelled and howled in chorus; 
the puppies in the travaux set up a dismal whine as the 
water invaded their comfortable retreat; the little black- 
eyed children, from one year of age upward, clung fast 
with both hands to the edge of their baskets, and looked 

10 over in alarm at the water rushing so near them, sput- 
tering and making wry mouths as it splashed against their 
faces. Some of the dogs, encumbered by their load, were 
carried down by the current, yelping piteously ; and the old 
squaws would rush into the water, seize their favorites 

15 by the neck and drag them out. As each horse gained the 
bank, he scrambled up as he could. Stray horses and 
colts came among the rest, often breaking away at full 
speed through the crowd, followed by the old hags, scream- 
ing, after their fashion, on all occasions of excitement. 

20 Buxom young squaws, blooming in all the charms of ver- 
milion, stood here and there on the bank, holding aloft 
their master's lance as a signal to collect the scattered 
portions of his household. In a few moments the crowd 
melted away, each family, with its horses and equipage, 

25 filing off to the plain at the rear of the fort; and here, in 
the space of half an hour, arose sixty or seventy of their 
tapering lodges. Their horses were feeding by hundreds 
over the surrounding prairie, and their dogs were roam- 
ing everywhere. The fort was full of men, and the 

30 children were whooping and yelling incessantly under the 
walls. 

These new-comers were scarcely arrived, when Bor- 
deaux was running across the fort, shouting to his squaw 
to bring him his spy-glass. The obedient Marie, the very 

35 model of a squaw, produced the instrument, and Bor- 
deaux hurried with it up to the wall. Pointing it to the 
eastward, he exclaimed, with an oath, that the families 
were coming. But a few moments elapsed before the 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 109 

heavy caravan of the emigrant wagons could be seen, 
steadily advancing from the hills. They gained the river, 
and without turning or pausing plunged in; they passed 
through, and slowly ascending the opposing bank, kept 
directly on their way past the fort and the Indian village, 5 
until, gaining a spot a quarter of a mile distant, they 
wheeled into a circle. For some time our tranquillity was 
undisturbed. The emigrants were preparing their en- 
campment; but no sooner was this accomplished, than 
Fort Laramie was fairly taken by storm. A crowd of 10 
broad-brimmed hats, thin visages, and staring eyes ap- 
peared suddenly at the gate. Tall, awkward men, in 
brown homespun, women with cadaverous faces and long 
lank figures, came thronging in together, and, as if in- 
spired by the very demon of curiosity, ransacked every 15 
nook and corner of the fort. Dismayed at this invasion, 
we withdrew in all speed to our chamber, vainly hoping 
that it might prove an inviolable sanctuary. The emi- 
grants prosecuted their investigations with untiring vigor. 
They penetrated the rooms, or rather dens, inhabited by 20 
the astonished squaws. They explored the apartments 
of the men, and even that of Marie and the bourgeois. At 
last a numerous deputation appeared at our door, but 
were immediately expelled. Being totally devoid of any 
sense of delicacy or propriety, they seemed resolved to 25 
search every mystery to the bottom. 

Having at length satisfied their curiosity, they next 
proceeded to business. The men occupied themselves in 
procuring supplies for their onward journey, either buying 
them with money or giving in exchange superfluous ^^ 
articles of their own. 

The emigrants felt a violent prejudice against the 
French Indians, as they called the trappers and traders. 
They thought, and with some justice, that these men bore 
them no good will. Many of them were firmly persuaded ^^ 
that the French were instigating the Indians to attack 
and cut them off. On visiting the encampment we were 
at once struck with the extraordinary perplexity and 



no The Oregon Trail 

indecision that prevailed among the emigrants. They 
seemed like men totally out of their element; bewildered 
and amazed, like a troop of school-boys lost in the woods. 
It was impossible to be long among them without being 
5 conscious of the high and bold spirit with which most of 
them were animated. But the forest is the home of the 
backwoodsman. On the remote prairie he is totally at a 
loss. He differs as much from the genuine " mountain 
man," the wild prairie hunter, as a Canadian voyageur, 

10 paddling his canoe on the rapids of the Ottawa, differs 
from an American sailor among the storms of Cape Horn. 
Still my companion and I were somewhat at a loss to ac- 
count for this perturbed state of mind. It could not be 
cowardice; these men were of the same stock with the 

15 volunteers of Monterey and Buena Vista. Yet, for the 
most part, they were the rudest and most ignorant of the 
frontier population; they knew absolutely nothing of 
the country and its inhabitants; they had already experi- 
enced much misfortune and apprehended more; they had 

20 seen nothing of mankind, and had never put their own 
resources to the test. 

A full proportion of suspicion fell upon us. Being 
strangers, we were looked upon as enemies. Having 
occasion for a supply of lead and a few other necessary 

25 articles, we used to go over to the emigrant camps to ob- 
tain them. After some hesitation, some dubious glances, 
and fumbling of the hands in the pockets, the terms would 
be agreed upon, the price tendered, and the emigrant 
would go off to bring the article in question. After wait- 

30 ing until our patience gave out, we would go in search of 
him, and find him seated on the tongue of his wagon. 

" Well, stranger," he would observe, as he saw us 
approach, " I reckon I won't trade ! " 

Some friend of his had followed him from the scene of 

35 the bargain, and suggested in his ear that clearly we meant 
to cheat him, and he had better have nothing to do with us. 
This timorous mood of the emigrants was doubly un- 
fortunate, as it exposed them to real danger. Assume, in 



Scenes at Fort Laramie in 

the presence of Indians, a bold bearing, self-confident yet 
vigilant, and you will find them tolerably safe neighbors. 
But your safety depends on the respect and fear you are 
able to inspire. If you betray timidity or indecision, you 
convert them from that moment into insidious and dan- 5 
gerous enemies. The Dahcotah saw clearly enough the 
perturbation of the emigrants, and instantly availed them- 
selves of it. They became extremely insolent and exact- 
ing in their demands. It has become an established 
custom with them to go to the camp of every party, as it 10 
arrives in succession at the fort, and demand a feast. 
Smoke's village had come with this express design, hav- 
ing made several days' journey with no other object than 
that of enjoying a cup of coffee and two or three biscuits. 
So the " feast " was demanded, and the emigrants dared 15 
not refuse it. 

One evening, about sunset, the village was deserted. 
We met old men, warriors, squaws, and children in gay 
attire, trooping off to the encampment, with faces of an- 
ticipation ; and, arriving here, they seated themselves in a 20 
semicircle. Smoke occupied the centre, with his warriors 
on either hand; the young men and boys next succeeded, 
and the squaws and children formed the horns of the 
crescent. The biscuit and coffee were most promptly dis- 
patched, the emigrants staring open-mouthed at their sav- 25 
age guests. With each emigrant party that arrived at 
Fort Laramie this scene was renewed; and every day the 
Indians grew more rapacious and presumptuous. One 
evening they broke to pieces, out of mere wantonness, the 
cups from which they had been feasted ; and this so 30 
exasperated the emigrants that many of them seized their 
rifles and could scarcely be restrained from firing on the 
insolent mob of Indians. Before we left the country this 
dangerous spirit on the part of the Dahcotah had mounted 
to a yet higher pitch. They began tfpenly to threaten the 35 
emigrants with destruction, and actually fired upon one 
or two parties of whites. A military force and military 
law are urgently called for in that perilous region; and 



112 The Oregon Trail 

unless troops are speedily stationed at Fort Laramie, 
or elsewhere in the neighborhood, both the emigrants 
and other travellers will be exposed to most imminent 
risks. 
5 The Ogillallah, the Brule, and the other western bands 
of the Dahcotah are thorough savages, unchanged by any 
contact with civilization. Not one of them can speak an 
European tongue, or has ever visited an American settle- 
ment. Until within a year or two, when the emigrants 

10 began to pass through their country on the way to Oregon, 
they had seen no whites except the handful employed 
about the Fur Company's posts. They esteemed them a 
wise people, inferior only to themselves, living in leather 
lodges, like their own, and subsisting on buffalo. But 

15 when the swarm of Meneaska, with their oxen and wagons, 
began to invade them, their astonishment was unbounded. 
They could scarcely believe that the earth contained such 
a multitude of white men. Their wonder is now giving 
way to indignation; and the result, unless vigilantly 

20 guarded against, may be lamentable in the extreme. 

But to glance at the interior of a lodge. Shaw and I 
used often to visit them. Indeed, we spent most of our 
evenings in the Indian village, Shaw's assumption of the 
medical character giving us a fair pretext. As a sample 

25 of the rest I will describe one of these visits. The sun had 
just set, and the horses were driven into the corral. The 
Prairie Cock, a noted beau, came in at the gate with a bevy 
of young girls, with whom he began a dance in the area, 
leading them round and round in a circle, while he jerked 

30 up from his chest a succession of monotonous sounds, to 
which they kept time in a rueful chant. Outside the gate 
boys and young men were idly frolicking; and close by, 
looking grimly upon them, stood a warrior in his robe, 
with his face painted jet-black, in token that he had lately 

35 taken a Pawnee scalp. Passing these, the tall dark lodges 
rose between us and the red western sky. We repaired at 
once to the lodge of Old Smoke himself. It was by no 
means better than the others; indeed, it was rather 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 113 

shabby; for in this democratic community the chief never 
assumes superior state. Smoke sat cross-legged on a 
buffalo-robe, and his grunt of salutation as we entered was 
unusually cordial, out of respect no doubt to Shaw's medi- 
cal character. Seated around the lodge were several 5 
squaws, and an abundance of children. The complaint of 
Shaw's patients was, for the most part, a severe inflam- 
mation of the eyes, occasioned by exposure to the sun, a 
species of disorder which he treated with some success. 
He had brought with him a homoeopathic medicine-chest, jq 
and was, I presume, the first who introduced that harm- 
less system of treatment among the Ogillallah. No sooner 
had a robe been spread at the head of the lodge for our 
accommodation, and we had seated ourselves upon it, 
than a patient made her appearance : the chief's daughter 15 
herself, who, to do her justice, was the best-looking girl in 
the village. Being on excellent terms with the physician, 
she placed herself readily under his hands, and submitted 
with a good grace to his applications, laughing in his face 
during the whole process, for a squaw hardly knows how 20 
to smile. This case dispatched, another of a different 
kind succeeded. A hideous, emaciated old woman sat in 
the darkest corner of the lodge, rocking to and fro with 
pain, and hiding her eyes from the light by pressing the 
palms of both hands against her face. At Smoke's com- 25 
mand she came forward very unwillingly, and exhibited a 
pair of eyes that had nearly disappeared from excess of 
inflammation. No sooner had the doctor fastened his grip 
upon her than she set up a dismal moaning, and writhed so 
in his grasp that he lost all patience ; but being resolved 30 
to carry his point, he succeeded at last in applying his 
favorite remedies. 

" It is strange," he said, when the operation was fin- 
ished, " that I forgot to bring any Spanish flies with me ; 
we must have something here to answer for a counter- 35 
irritant ! " 

So, in the absence of better, he seized upon a red-hot 
brand from the fire, and clapped it against the temple of 



114 The Oregon Trail 

the old squaw, who set up an unearthly howl, at which the 
rest of the family broke out into a laugh. 

During these medical operations Smoke's eldest squaw 
entered the lodge, with a sort of stone mallet in her hand. 
5 I had observed some time before a litter of well-grown 
black puppies, comfortably nestled among some buffalo- 
robes at one side; but this new-comer speedily disturbed 
their enjoyment; for, seizing one of them by the hind paw, 
she dragged him out, and carrying him to the entrance of 

10 the lodge, hammered him on the head till she killed him. 
Being quite conscious to what this preparation tended, I 
looked through a hole in the back of the lodge to see the 
next steps of the process. The squaw, holding the puppy 
by the legs, was swinging him to and fro through the blaze 

15 of a fire, until the hair was singed off. This done, she 
unsheathed her knife and cut him into small pieces, which 
she dropped into a kettle to boil. In a few moments a 
large wooden dish was set before us, filled with this deli- 
cate preparation. We felt conscious of the honor. A dog- 

20 feast is the greatest compliment a Dahcotah can offer to 
his guest ; and knowing that to refuse eating would be an 
affront, we attacked the little dog and devoured him 
before the eyes of his unconscious parent. Smoke in the 
meantime was preparing his great pipe. It was lighted 

25 when we had finished our repast, and we passed it from 
one to another till the bowl was empty. This done, we 
took our leave without farther ceremony, knocked at the 
gate of the fort, and, after making ourselves known, were 
admitted. 

30 One morning, about a week after reaching Fort Lara- 
mie, we were holding our customary Indian levee, when a 
bustle in the area below announced a new arrival; and, 
looking down from our balcony, I saw a familiar red beard 
and moustache in the gateway. They belonged to the 

^^ Captain, who, with his party, had just crossed the stream. 
We met him on the stairs as he came up, and congratu- 
lated him on the safe arrival of himself and his devoted 
companions. But he remembered our treachery, and was 



Scenes at Fort Laramie 115 

grave and dignified accordingly; a tendency which in- 
creased as he observed on our part a disposition to laugh 
at him. After remaining an hour or two at the fort he 
rode away with his friends, and we have heard nothing of 
him since. As for R., he kept carefully aloof. It was but 5 
too evident that we had the unhappiness to have forfeited 
the kind regards of our London fellow-traveller. 



NOTE 

Somewhat more than a year from this time Shaw happened 
to be in New York, and coming one morning down the steps 
of the Astor House, encountered a small newsboy with a 
bundle of penny papers under his arm, who screamed in his 
ear, " Another great battle in Mexico ! " Shaw bought a 
paper, and having perused the glorious intelligence, was look- 
ing over the remaining columns, when the following para- 
graph attracted his notice: 

" English Travelling Sportsmen. — Among the notable ar- 
rivals in town are two English gentlemen, William and John 
C, Esqrs., at the Clinton Hotel, on their return home after 
an extended buffalo-hunting tour in Oregon and the wild 
West. Their party crossed the continent in March, 1846, 
since when our travellers have seen the wonders of our great 
West, the Sandwich Islands, and the no less agreeable Coast 
of Western Mexico, California, and Peru. With the real 
zeal of sportsmen they have pursued adventure whenever it 
has offered, and returned with not only a correct knowledge 
of the West, but with many a trophy that shows they have 
found the grand sport they sought. The account of ' Oregon,' 
given by those observing travellers, is most glowing, and 
though upon a pleasure trip, the advantages to be realized 
by commercial men have not been overlooked, and they 
prophesy for that ' Western State ' a prosperity not ex- 
ceeded at the east. The fisheries are spoken of as the best 
in the country, and only equalled by the rare facilities for 
agriculture. A trip like this now closed is a rare undertak- 
ing, but as interesting as rare to those who are capable of 
a full appreciation of all the wonders that met them in the 
magnificent region they have traversed." 

In some admiration at the heroic light in which Jack and 
the Captain were here set forth, Shaw pocketed the news- 
paper and proceeded to make inquiry after his old fellow- 



ii6 The Oregon Trail 

travellers. Jack was out of town, but the Captain was quietly 
established at his hotel. Except that the red moustache was 
shorn away, he was in all respects the same man whom we 
had left upon the South Fork of the Platte. Every recollec- 
tion of former differences had vanished from his mind, and 
he greeted his visitor most cordially. " Where is R. ? " asked 
Shaw. " Gone to the devil," hastily replied the Captain ; 
" that is, Jack and I parted from him at Oregon City, and 
haven't seen him since." He next proceeded to give an ac- 
count of his journeyings after leaving us at Fort Laramie. 
No sooner, it seemed, had he done so, than he and Jack 
began to slaughter the buffalo with unrelenting fury, but 
when they reached the other side of the South Pass their 
rifles were laid by as useless, since there were neither In- 
dians nor game to exercise them upon. From this point the 
journey, as the Captain expressed it, was a great bore. When 
they reached the mouth of the Columbia, he and Jack sailed 
for the Sandwich Islands, whence they proceeded to Panama, 
across the Isthmus, and came by sea to New Orleans. 

Shaw and our friend spent the evening together, and when 
they finally separated at two o'clock in the morning, the Cap- 
tain's ruddy face was ruddier than ever. 



CHAPTER X 

THE WAR-PARTIES 

** By the nine gods he swore it, 
And named a trysting-day, 
And bade his messengers ride forth, 
East and west and south and north, 
To summon his array." 

Lays of Ancient Rome. 

The summer of 1846 was a season of much warlike ex- 
citement among all the western bands of the Dahcotah. 
In 1845 they encountered great reverses. Many war- 
parties had been sent out; some of them had been totally 
cut off, and others had returned broken and disheartened ; 5 
so that the whole nation was in mourning. Among the 
rest, ten warriors had gone to the Snake country, led by ■ 
the son of a prominent Ogillallah chief, called the Whirl- 
wind. In passing over Laramie Plains they encountered 
a superior number of their enemies, were surrounded, 10 
and killed to a man. Having performed this exploit, the 
Snakes became alarmed, dreading the resentment of the 
Dahcotah, and they hastened therefore to signify their 
wish for peace by sending the scalp of the slain partisan, 
together with a small parcel of tobacco attached, to his 15 
tribesmen and relations. They had employed old Vaskiss, 
the trader, as their messenger, and the scalp was the same 
that hung in our room at the fort. But the Whirlwind 
proved inexorable. Though his character hardly corre- 
sponds with his name, he is nevertheless an Indian, and "^ 
hates the Snakes with his whole soul. Long before the 
scalp arrived, he had made his preparations for revenge. 
He sent messengers with presents and tobacco to all the 
Dahcotah within three hundred miles, proposing a grand 
combination to chastise the Snakes, and naming a place 

117 



ii8 The Oregon Trail 

and time of rendezvous. The plan was readily adopted, 
and at this moment many villages, probably embracing in 
the whole five or six thousand souls, were slowly creeping 
over the prairies and tending toward the common centre at 
5 " La Bonte's camp," on the Platte. Here their warlike 
rites were to be celebrated with more than ordinary 
solemnity, and a thousand warriors, as it was said, were 
to set out for the enemy's country. The characteristic 
result of this preparation will appear in the sequel. 

10 I was greatly rejoiced to hear of it. I had come into 
the country almost exclusively with a view of observing 
the Indian character. Having from childhood felt a 
curiosity on this subject, and having failed completely 
to gratify it by reading, I resolved to have recourse to 

15 observation. I wished to satisfy myself with regard to 
the position of the Indians among the races of men; the 
vices and the virtues that have sprung from their innate 
character and from their modes of life, their government, 
their superstitions, and their domestic situation. To ac- 

20 complish my purpose it was necessary to live in the midst 
of them, and become, as it were, one of them. I pro- 
posed to join a village, and make myself an inmate of 
one of their lodges; and henceforward this narrative, so 
far as I am concerned, will be chiefly a record of the 

25 progress of this design, apparently so easy of accomplish- 
ment, and the unexpected impediments that opposed it. 
We resolved on no account to miss the rendezvous at 
" La Bonte's camp." Our plan was to leave Deslauriers 
at the fort, in charge of our equipage and the better part 

30 of our horses, while we took with us nothing but our 
weapons and the worst animals we had. In all probability 
jealousies and quarrels would arise among so many hordes 
of fierce impulsive savages, congregated together under 
no common head, and many of them strangers from re- 

35 mote prairies and mountains. We were bound in common 
prudence to be cautious how we excited any feeling of 
cupidity. This was our plan, but unhappily we were not 
destined to visit " La Bonte's camp " in this manner ; 



The War-Parties 119 

for one morning a young Indian came to the fort and 
brought us evil tidings. The new-comer was a dandy of 
the first water. His ugly face was painted with ver- 
milion; on his head fluttered the tail of a prairie-cock (a 
large species of pheasant, not found, as I have heard, 5 
eastward of the Rocky Mountains) ; in his ears were hung 
pendants of shell, and a flaming red blanket was wrapped 
around him. He carried a dragoon-sword in his hand, 
solely for display, since the knife, the arrow, and the 
rifle are the arbiters of every prairie fight ; but as no one 10 
in this country goes abroad unarmed, the dandy carried 
a bow and arrows in an otter-skin quiver at his back. In 
this guise, and bestriding his yellow horse with an air of 
extreme dignity, " The Horse," for that was his name, 
rode in at the gate, turning neither to the right nor the 15 
left, but casting glances askance at the groups of squaws 
who, with their mongrel progeny, were sitting in the sun 
before their doors. The evil tidings brought by " The 
Horse" were of the following import: The squaw of 
Henry Chatillon, a woman with whom he had been con- 20 
nected for years by the strongest ties which in that coun- 
try exist between the sexes, was dangerously ill. She 
and her children were in the village of the Whirlwind, at 
the distance of a few days' journey. Henry was anxious 
to see the woman before she died, and provide for the 25 
safety and support of his children, of whom he was 
extremely fond. To have refused him this would have 
been gross inhumanity. We abandoned our plan of join- 
ing Smoke's village and of proceeding with it to the 
rendezvous, and determined to meet the Whirlwind and 30 
go in his company. 

I had been slightly ill for several weeks, but on the 
third night after reaching Fort Laramie a violent pain 
awoke me, and I found myself attacked by the same dis- 
order that occasioned such heavy losses to the army on the 35 
Rio Grande. In a day and a half I was reduced to 
extreme weakness, so that I could not walk without pain 
and effort. Having within that time taken six grains of 



I20 The Oregon Trail 

opium, without the least beneficial effect, and having no 
medical adviser, nor any choice of diet, I resolved to 
throw myself upon Providence for recovery, using, with- 
out regard to the disorder, any portion of strength that 
5 might remain to me. So on the twentieth of June we set 
out from Fort Laramie to meet the Whirlwind's village. 
Though aided by the high-bowed " mountain-saddle," I 
could scarcely keep my seat on horseback. Before we 
left the fort we hired another man, a long-haired Cana- 

10 dian, with a face like an owl's, contrasting oddly enough 
with Deslauriers's mercurial countenance. This was not 
the only reinforcement to our party. A vagrant Indian 
trader, named Reynal, joined us, together with his squaw, 
Margot, and her two nephews, our dandy friend, " The 

15 Horse," and his younger brother, " The Hail Storm." 
Thus accompanied, we betook ourselves to the prairie, 
leaving the beaten trail, and passing over the desolate hills 
that flank the bottoms of Laramie Creek. In all, Indians 
and whites, we counted eight men and one woman. 

20 Reynal, the trader, the image of sleek and selfish com- 
placency, carried " The Horse's " dragoon-sword in his 
hand, delighting apparently in this useless parade; for, 
from spending half his life among Indians, he had caught 
not only their habits but their ideas. Margot, a female 

25 animal of more than two hundred pounds' weight, was 
crouched in the basket of a travail, such as I have before 
described; besides her ponderous bulk, various domestic 
utensils were attached to the vehicle, and she was leading 
by a trail-rope a pack-horse, which carried the covering 

30 of Reynal's lodge. Deslauriers walked briskly by the 
side of the cart, and Raymond came behind, swearing at 
the spare horses which it was his business to drive. The 
restless young Indians, their quivers at their backs and 
their bows in their hands, galloped over the hills, often 

35 starting a wolf or an antelope from the thick growth of 
wild-sage bushes. Shaw and I were in keeping with the 
rest of the rude cavalcade, having in the absence of other 
clothing adopted the buckskin attire of the trappers. 



The War-Parties 121 

Henry Chatillon rode in advance of the whole. Thus we 
passed hill after hill and hollow after hollow, a country- 
arid, broken, and so parched by the sun that none of the 
plants familiar to our more favored soil would flourish 
upon it, though there were multitudes of strange medici- 5 
nal herbs, more especially the absinth, which covered 
every declivity, and cacti were hanging like reptiles at 
the edges of every ravine. At length we ascended a high 
hill, our horses treading upon pebbles of flint, agate, and 
rough jasper, until, gaining the top, we looked down on 10 
the wild bottoms of Laramie Creek, which, far below us, 
wound like a writhing snake from side to side of the nar- 
row interval, amid a growth of shattered cotton-wood 
and ash trees. Lines of tall cliffs, white as chalk, shut in 
this green strip of woods and meadow-land, into which 15 
we descended and encamped for the night. In the morn- 
ing we passed a wide grassy plain by the river ; there was 
a grove in front, and beneath its shadows the ruins of an 
old trading- fort of logs. The grove bloomed with myriads 
of wild roses, with their sweet perfume fraught with 20 
recollections of home. As we emerged from the trees, a 
rattlesnake, as large as a man's arm and more than four 
feet long, lay coiled on a rock, fiercely rattling and hiss- 
ing at us; a gray hare, double the size of those of New 
England, leaped up from the tall ferns ; curlew were 25 
screaming over our heads, and a whole host of little 
prairie-dogs sat yelping at us at the mouths of their bur- 
rows on the dry plain beyond. Suddenly an antelope 
leaped up from the wild-sage bushes, gazed eagerly at us, 
and then, erecting his white tail, stretched away like a 30 
greyhound. The two Indian boys found a white wolf, as 
large as a calf, in a hollow, and giving a sharp yell, they 
galloped after him; but the wolf leaped into the stream and 
swam across. Then came the crack of a rifle, the bullet 
whistling harmlessly over his head, as he scrambled up the 35 
steep declivity, rattling down stones and earth into the 
water below. Advancing a little, we beheld, on the farther 
bank of the stream, a spectacle not common even in that 



122 The Oregon Trail 

region; for, emerging from among the trees, a herd of 
some two hundred elk came out upon the meadow, their 
antlers clattering as they walked forward in a dense 
throng. Seeing us, they broke into a run, rushing across 
5 the opening and disappearing among the trees and scat- 
tered groves. On our left was a barren prairie, stretching 
to the horizon; on our right, a deep gulf, with Laramie 
Creek at the bottom. We found ourselves at length at 
the edge of a steep descent; a narrow valley, with long 

10 rank grass and scattered trees, stretching before us for a 
mile or more along the course of the stream. Reaching 
the farther end, we stopped and encamped. An old huge 
cotton-wood tree spread its branches horizontally over 
our tent. Laramie Creek, circling before our camp, half- 

15 enclosed us; it swept along the bottom of a line of tall 
white cliffs that looked down on us from the farther bank. 
There were dense copses on our right ; the cliffs, too, were 
half-hidden by shrubbery, though behind us a few cotton- 
wood trees, dotting the green prairie, alone impeded the 

20 view, and friend or enemy could be discerned in that 
direction at a mile's distance. Here we resolved to 
remain and await the arrival of the Whirlwind, who would 
certainly pass that way in his progress toward La Bonte's 
camp. To go in search of him was not expedient, both 

25 on account of the broken and impracticable nature of the 
country and the uncertainty of his position and move- 
ments; besides, our horses were almost worn out, and I 
was in no condition to travel. We had good grass, good 
water, tolerable fish from the stream, and plenty of 

30 smaller game, such as antelope and deer, though no buf- 
falo. There was one little drawback to our satisfaction : 
a certain extensive tract of bushes and dried grass, just 
behind us, which it was by no means advisable to enter, 
since it sheltered a numerous brood of rattlesnakes. 

35 Henry Chatillon again dispatched " The Horse " to the 
village, with a message to his squaw that she and her 
relatives should leave the rest and push on as rapidly as 
possible to our camp. 



The War-Parties 123 

Our daily routine soon became as regular as that of a 
well-ordered household. The weather-beaten old tree 
was in the centre; our rifles generally rested against its 
vast trunk, and our saddles were flung on the ground 
around it ; its distorted roots were so twisted as to form 5 
one or two convenient arm-chairs, where we could sit in 
the shade and read or smoke; but meal-times became, 
on the whole, the most interesting hours of the day, and 
a bountiful provision was made for them. An antelope 
or a deer usually swung from a stout bough, and haunches 10 
were suspended against the trunk. That camp is da- 
guerreotyped on my memory; the old tree, the white 
tent, with Shaw sleeping in the shadow of it, and Reynal's 
miserable lodge close by the bank of the stream. It was 
a wretched oven-shaped structure, made of begrimed and 15 
tattered buffalo-hides stretched over a frame of poles; 
one side was open, and at the side of the opening hung 
the powder-horn and bullet-pouch of the owner, together 
with his long red pipe, and a rich quiver of otter-skin, 
with a bow and arrows ; for Reynal, an Indian in most 20 
things but color, chose to hunt buffalo with these primi- 
tive weapons. In the darkness of this cavern-like habita- 
tion might be discerned Madame Margot, her overgrown 
bulk stowed away among her domestic implements, furs, 
robes, blankets, and painted cases of par' flcche, in which 25 
dried meat is kept. Here she sat from sunrise to sunset, 
a bloated impersonation of gluttony and laziness, while 
her affectionate proprietor was smoking, or begging 
petty gifts from us, or telling lies concerning his own 
achievements, or perchance engaged in the more profit- 30 
able occupation of cooking some preparation of prairie 
delicacies. Reynal was an adept at this work; he and 
Deslauriers have joined forces, and are hard at work to- 
gether over the fire, while Raymond spreads, by way of 
tablecloth, a buffalo-hide carefully^ whitened with pipe- 35 
clay, on the grass before the tent. Here, with ostentatious 
display, he arranges the teacups and plates; and then, 
creeping on all fours, like a dog, he thrusts his head in at 



124 The Oregon Trail 

the opening of the tent. For a moment we see his romid 
owlish eyes rolling wildly, as if the idea he came to com- 
municate had suddenly escaped him; then recollecting his 
scattered thoughts, as if by an effort, he informs us that 
5 supper is ready, and instantly withdraws. 

When sunset came, and at that hour the wild and deso- 
late scene would assume a new aspect, the horses were 
driven in. They had been grazing all day in the neigh- 
boring meadow, but now they were picketed close about 

10 the camp. A.s the prairie darkened we sat and con- 
versed around the fire, until, becoming drowsy, we spread 
our saddles on the ground, wrapped our blankets around 
us, and lay down. We never placed a guard, having by 
this time become too indolent; but Henry Chatillon 

15 folded his loaded rifle in the same blanket with himself, 
observing that he always took it to bed with him when 
he camped in that place. Henry was too bold a man to 
use such a precaution without good cause. We had a 
hint noAv and then that our situation was none of the 

20 safest : several Crow war-parties were known to be in the 
vicinity, and one of them, that passed here some time 
before, had peeled the bark from a neighboring tree, and 
engraved upon the white wood certain hieroglyphics, to 
signify that they had invaded the territories of their 

25 enemies, the Dahcotah, and set them at defiance. One 
morning a thick mist covered the whole country. Shaw 
and Henry went out to ride, and soon came back with a 
startling piece of intelligence: they had found within 
rifle-shot of our camp the recent trail of about thirty 

30 horsemen. They could not be whites, and they could not 
be Dahcotah, since we knew no such parties to be in the 
neighborhood; therefore they must be Crows. Thanks 
to that friendly mist, we had escaped a hard battle; they 
would inevitably have attacked us and our Indian com- 

35 panions had they seen our camp. Whatever doubts we 
might have entertained were quite removed a day or two 
after by two or three Dahcotah, who came to us with an 
account of having hidden in a ravine on that very morn- 



The War-Parties 125 

ing, from whence they saw and counted the Crows; they 
said that they followed them, carefully keeping out of 
sight, as they passed up Chugwater; that here the Crows 
discovered five dead bodies of Dahcotah, placed accord- 
ing to the national custom in trees, and flinging them to 5 
the ground,, they held their guns against them and blew 
them to atoms. 

If our camp were not altogether safe, still it was com- 
fortable enough; at least it was so to Shaw, for I was 
tormented with illness and vexed by the delay in the 10 
accomplishment of my designs. When a respite in my 
disorder gave me some returning strength, I rode out 
well armed upon the prairie, or bathed with Shaw in the 
stream, or waged a petty warfare with the inhabitants 
of a neighboring prairie-dog village. Around our fire at 15 
night we employed ourselves in inveighing against the 
fickleness and inconstancy of Indians, and execrating 
the Whirlwind and all his village. At last the thing grew 
insufferable. 

" To-morrow morning," said I, " I will start for the 20 
fort, and see if I can hear any news there." Late that 
evening, when the fire had sunk low, and all the camp 
were asleep, a loud cry sounded from the darkness. 
Henry started up, recognized the voice, replied to it, and 
our dandy friend, " The Horse," rode in among us, just 25 
returned from his mission to the village. He coolly 
picketed his mare, without saying a word, sat down by the 
fire and began to eat, but his imperturbable philosophy 
was too much for our patience. Where was the village ? — 
about fifty miles south of us; it was moving slowly and 30 
would not arrive in less than a week; and where was 
Henry's squaw? coming as fast as she could with Mahto- 
Tatonka, and the rest of her brothers, but she would 
never reach us, for she was dying, and asking every mo- 
ment for Henry. Henry's manly face became clouded 35 
and downcast; he said that if we were willing he would 
go in the morning to find her, at which Shaw offered to 
accompany him. 



126 The Oregon Trail 

We saddled our horses at sunrise. Reynal protested 
vehemently against being left alone, with nobody but 
the two Canadians and the young Indians, when enemies 
were in the neighborhood. Disregarding his com- 
5 plaints, we left him, and coming to the mouth of 
Chugwater, separated, Shaw and Henry turning to the 
right, up the bank of the stream, while I made for the 
fort. 

Taking leave for a while of my friend and the unfortu- 

10 nate squaw, I will relate by way of episode what I saw 
and did at Fort Laramie. It was not more than eighteen 
miles distant, and I reached it in three hours ; a shrivelled 
little figure, wrapped from head to foot in a dingy white 
Canadian capote, stood in the gateway, holding by a 

15 cord of bull's hide a shaggy wild horse, which he had 
lately caught. His sharp prominent features and his little 
keen snake-like eyes looked out from beneath the shadowy 
hood of the capote, which was drawn over his head ex- 
actly like the cowl of a Capuchin friar. His face was 

20 extremely thin and like an old piece of leather, and his 
mouth spread from ear to ear. Extending his long wiry 
hand, he welcomed me with something more cordial than 
the ordinary cold salute of an Indian, for we were ex- 
cellent friends. We had made an exchange of horses to 

25 our mutual advantage; and Paul, thinking himself well 
treated, had declared everywhere that the white man had 
a good heart. He was a Dahcotah from the Missouri, a 
reputed son of the half-breed interpreter, Pierre Dorion, 
so often mentioned in Irving's " Astoria." He said that 

30 he was going to Richard's trading-house to sell his horse 
to some emigrants who were encamped there, and asked 
me to go with him. We forded the stream together, Paul 
dragging his wild charge behind him. As we passed over 
the sandy plains beyond, he grew quite communicative. 

35 Paul was a cosmopolitan in his way; he had been to the 
settlements of the whites, and visited in peace and war 
most of the tribes within the range of a thousand miles. 
He spoke a jargon of French and another of English, yet 



The War-Parties 127 

nevertheless he was a thorough Indian ; and as he told of 
the bloody deeds of his own people against their enemies, 
his little eyes would glitter with a fierce lustre. He told 
how the Dahcotah exterminated a village of the Hohays 
on the Upper Missouri, slaughtering men, women, and 5 
children; and how an overwhelming force of them cut off 
sixteen of the brave Delawares, who fought like wolves 
to the last, amid the throng of their enemies. He told me 
also another story, which I did not believe until I had 
heard it confirmed from so many independent sources 10 
that no room was left for doubt. I am tempted to intro- 
duce it here. 

Six years ago, a fellow named Jim Beckwith, a mongrel 
of French, American, and negro blood, was trading for 
the Fur Company in a very large village of the Crows. 15 
Jim Beckwith was last summer at St. Louis. He is a 
ruffian of the first stamp, bloody and treacherous, without 
honor or honesty; such at least is the character he bears 
upon the prairie. Yet in his case all the standard rules of 
character fail, for though he will stab a man in his sleep, 20 
he will also perform most desperate acts of daring; such, 
for instance, as the following: While he was in the Crow 
village, a Blackfoot war-party, between thirty and forty 
in number, came stealing through the country, killing 
stragglers and carrying off horses. The Crow warriors 25 
got upon their trail and pressed them so closely that they 
could not escape, at which the Blackfeet, throwing up a 
semicircular breastwork of logs at the foot of a precipice, 
coolly awaited their approach. The logs and sticks, piled 
four or five feet high, protected them in front. The Crows 30 
might have swept over the breastwork and exterminated 
their enemies; but though outnumbering them tenfold, 
they did not dream of storming the little fortification. 
Such a proceeding would be altogether repugnant to their 
notions of warfare. Whooping and yelling, and jumping 35 
from side to side like devils incarrfate, they showered 
bullets and arrows upon the logs; not a Blackfoot was 
hurt, but several Crows, in spite of their leaping and 



128 The Oregon Trail 

dodging, were shot down. In this childish manner the 
fight went on for an hour or two. Now and then a Crow 
warrior in an ecstasy of valor and vainglory would 
scream forth his war-song, boasting himself the bravest 
5 and greatest of mankind, and grasping his hatchet, would 
rush up and strike it upon the breastwork, and then as 
he retreated to his companions, fall dead under a shower 
of arrows; yet no combined attack seemed to be dreamed 
of. The Blackfeet remained secure in their intrenchment. 

10 At last Jim Beckwith lost patience: 

" You are all fools and old women," he said to the 
Crows; "come with me, if any of you are brave enough, 
and I will show you how to fight." 
He threw off his trapper's frock of buckskin and stripped 

15 himself naked like the Indians themselves. He left his 
rifle on the ground, and taking in his hand a small light 
hatchet, he ran over the prairie to the right, concealed 
by a hollow from the eyes of the Blackfeet. Then climb- 
ing up the rocks, he gained the top of the precipice behind 

20 them. Forty or fifty young Crow warriors followed him. 
By the cries and whoops that rose from below he knew 
that the Blackfeet were just beneath him; and running 
forward, he leaped down the rock into the midst of them. 
As he fell he caught one by the long loose hair, and, 

25 dragging him down, tomahawked him ; then grasping 
another by the belt at his waist, he struck him also a 
stunning blow, and gaining his feet, shouted the Crow 
war-cry. He swung his hatchet so fiercely around him 
that the astonished Blackfeet bore back and gave him 

30 room. He might, had he chosen, have leaped over the 
breastwork and escaped; but this was not necessary, for 
with devilish yells the Crow warriors came dropping in 
quick succession over the rock among their enemies. 
The main body of the Crows, too, answered the cry from 

35 the front, and rushed up simultaneously. The convul- 
sive struggle within the breastwork was frightful ; for an 
instant the Blackfeet fought and yelled like pent-up tigers; 
but the butchery was soon complete, and the mangled 



The War-Parties 129 

bodies lay piled up together under the precipice. Not a 
Black foot made his escape. 

As Paul finished his story we came in sight of Richard's 
fort. It stood in the middle of the plain, a disorderly 
crowd of men around it, and an emigrant camp a little in 5 
front. 

" Now, Paul," said I, " where are your Minnicongew 
lodges ? " 

" Not come yet," said Paul, " maybe come to-morrow." 

Two large villages of a band of Dahcotah had come 10 
three hundred miles from the Missouri to join in the war, 
and they were expected to reach Richard's that morning. 
There was as yet no sign of their approach; so pushing 
through a noisy, drunken crowd, I entered an apartment 
of logs and mud, the largest in the fort; it was full of 15 
men of various races and complexions, all more or less 
drunk. A company of California emigrants, it seemed, had 
made the discovery at this late day that they had encum- 
bered themselves with too many supplies for their journey. 
A part, therefore, they had thrown away or sold at great 20 
loss to the traders, but had determined to get rid of their 
very copious stock of Missouri whiskey by drinking it on 
the spot. Here were maudlin squaws stretched on piles 
of buffalo-robes; squalid Mexicans, armed with bows and 
arrows ; Indians sedately drunk ; long-haired Canadians 25 
and trappers, and American backwoodsmen in brown 
homespun, the well-beloved pistol and bowie-knife dis- 
played openly at their sides. In the middle of the room 
a tall, lank man, with a dingy broadcloth coat, was 
haranguing the company in the style of the stump orator. 30 
With one hand he sawed the air, and with the other 
clutched firmly a brown jug of whiskey, which he applied 
every moment to his lips, forgetting that he had drained 
the contents long ago. Richard formally introduced me 
to this personage, who was no less a/ man than Colonel R., 35 
once the leader of the party. Instantly the Colonel, 
seizing me, in the absence of buttons, by the leather 
fringes of my frock, began to define his position. His 



i^o The Oregon Trail 

men, he said, had mutinied and deposed him; but still he 
exercised over them the influence of a superior mind; in 
all but the name he was yet their chief. As the Colonel 
spoke, I looked round on the wild assemblage, and could 

5 not help thinking that he was but ill qualified to conduct 
such men across the deserts to California. Conspicuous 
among the rest stood three tall young men, grandsons of 
Daniel Boone. They had clearly inherited the adventur- 
ous character of that prince of pioneers, but I saw no 

10 signs of the quiet and tranquil spirit that so remarkably 
distinguished him. 

Fearful was the fate that months after overtook some 
of the members of that party. General Kearny, on his 
late return from California, brought in the account how 

15 they were interrupted by the deep snows among the 
mountains, and, maddened by cold and hunger, fed upon 
each other's flesh ! 

I got tired of the confusion. " Come, Paul," said I, 
" we will be off." Paul sat in the sun, under the wall of 

20 the fort. He jumped up, mounted, and we rode toward 
Fort Laramie. When we reached it, a man came out of 
the gate with a pack at his back and a rifle on his shoulder ; 
others were gathering about him, shaking him by the 
hand, as if taking leave. I thought it a strange thing that 

25 a man should set out alone and on foot for the prairie. I 
soon got an explanation. Perrault — this, if I recollect 
right, was the Canadian's name — had quarrelled with the 
bourgeois, and the fort was too hot to hold him. Bor- 
deaux, inflated with his transient authority, had abused 

30 him, and received a blow in return. The men then sprang 
at each other, and grappled in the middle of the fort. 
Bordeaux was down in an instant, at the mercy of the in- 
censed Canadian ; had not an old Indian, the brother of his 
squaw, seized hold of his antagonist, he would have fared 

35 ill. Perrault broke loose from the old Indian, and both 
the white men ran to their rooms for their guns ; but when 
Bordeaux, looking from his door, saw the Canadian, gun 
in hand, standing in the area and calling on him to come 



The War-Parties 131 

out and fight, his heart failed him; he chose to remain 
where he was. In vain the old Indian, scandalized by his 
brother-in-law's cowardice, called upon him to go upon 
the prairie and fight it out in the white man's manner; 
and Bordeaux's own squaw, equally incensed, screamed 5 
to her lord and master that he was a dog and an old 
w^oman. It all availed nothing. Bordeaux's prudence 
got the better of his valor, and he would not stir. Per- 
rault stood showering opprobrious epithets at the recreant 
bourgeois. Growing tired of this, he made up a pack of 10 
dried meat, and slinging it at his back, set out alone for 
Fort Pierre, on the Missouri, a distance of three hundred 
miles, over a desert country, full of hostile Indians. 

I remained in the fort that night. In the morning as I 
was coming out from breakfast, conversing with a trader 15 
named McCluskey, I saw a strange Indian leaning against 
the side of the gate. He was a tall, strong man, with 
heavy features. 

"Who is he?" I asked. 

" That's the Whirlwind," said McCluskey. " He is the 20 
fellow that made all this stir about the war. It's always 
the way with the Sioux; they never stop cutting each 
other's throats; it's all they are fit for; instead of sitting 
in their lodges, and getting robes to trade with us in the 
winter. If this war goes on, we'll make a poor trade of it 25 
next season, I reckon." 

And this was the opinion of all the traders, who were 
vehemently opposed to the war, from the serious injury 
that it must occasion to their interests. The Whirlwind 
left his village the day before to make a visit to the 30 
fort. His warlike ardor had abated not a little since 
he first conceived the design of avenging his son's death. 
The long and complicated preparations for the expedi- 
tion were too much for his fickle, inconstant disposition. 
That morning Bordeaux fastened upon him, made him 35 
presents, and told him that if he went to war he would 
destroy his horses and kill no buffalo to trade with the 
white men; in short, that he was a fool to think of such 



1-52 The Oregon Trail 

a thing, and had better make up his mind to sit quietly 
in his lodge and smoke his pipe, like a wise man. The 
Whirlwind's purpose was evidently shaken; he had be- 
come tired, like a child, of his favorite plan. Bordeaux 
5 exultingly predicted that he would not go to war. My 
philanthropy at that time was no match for my curiosity, 
and I was vexed at the possibility that after all I might 
lose the rare opportunity of seeing the formidable cere- 
monies of war. The Whirlwind, however, had merely 

10 thrown the firebrand ; the conflagration was become gen- 
eral. All the western bands of the Dahcotah were bent 
on war; and as I heard from McCluskey, six large vil- 
lages were already gathered on a little stream, forty 
miles distant, and were daily calling to the Great Spirit 

15 to aid them in their enterprise. McCluskey had just left 
them, and represented them as on their way to La Bonte's 
camp, which they would reach in a week, unless they 
should learn that there were no buffalo there. I did not 
like this condition, for buffalo this season were rare in the 

20 neighborhood. There were also the two Minnicongew 
villages that I mentioned before; but about noon an 
Indian came from Richard's fort with the news that they 
"were quarrelling, breaking up, and dispersing. So much 
for the whiskey of the emigrants ! Finding themselves 

25 unable to drink the whole, they had sold the residue to 
these Indians, and it needed no prophet to foretell the 
result; a spark dropped into a powder-magazine would 
not have produced a quicker effect. Instantly the old 
jealousies and rivalries and smothered feuds that exist 

30 in an Indian village broke out into furious quarrels. 
They forgot the warlike enterprise that had already 
brought them three hundred miles. They seemed like 
ungoverned children inflamed with the fiercest passions 
of men. Several of them were stabbed In the drunken 

35 tumult ; and in the morning they scattered and moved 
back toward the Missouri in small parties. I feared that, 
after all, the long-projected meeting and the ceremonies 
that were to attend it might never take place, and I 



The War-Parties 133 

should lose so admirable an opportunity of seeing the 
Indian under his most fearful and characteristic aspect; 
however, in foregoing this, I should avoid a very fair 
probability of being plundered and stripped, and, it might 
be, stabbed or shot into the bargain. Consoling myself 5 
with this reflection, I prepared to carry the news, such as 
it was, to camp. 

I caught my horse, and to my vexation found he had 
lost a shoe and broken his tender white hoof against the 
rocks. Horses are shod at Fort Laramie at the moderate 10 
rate of three dollars a foot; so I tied Hendrick to a beam 
in the corral, and summoned Roubidou, the blacksmith. 
Roubidou, with the hoof between his knees, was at work 
with hammer and file, and I was inspecting the process, 
when a strange voice addressed me. 15 

" Two more gone under ! Well, there is more of us 
left yet. Here's Jean Gras and me off to the mountains 
to-morrow. Our turn will come next, I suppose. It's a 
hard life, anyhow ! " 

I looked up and saw a little man, not much more than 20 
five feet high, but of very square and strong proportions. 
In appearance he was particularly dingy; for his old 
buckskin frock was black and polished with time and 
grease, and his belt, knife, pouch, and powder-horn ap- 
peared to have seen the roughest service. The first joint 25 
of each foot was entirely gone, having been frozen off 
several winters before, and his moccasins were curtailed 
in proportion. His whole appearance and equipment 
bespoke the " free trapper." He had a round, ruddy face, 
animated with a spirit of carelessness and gayety not at 30 
all in accordance with the words he had just spoken. 

" ' Two more gone,' " said I ; " what do you mean by 
that?" 

" Oh," said he, " the Arapahoes have just killed two 
of us in the mountains. Old Bull-Tail has come to tell 35 
us. They stabbed one behind his back, and shot the other 
with his own rifle. That's the way we live here ! I mean 
to give up trapping after this year. My squaw says she 



134 The Oregon Trail 

wants a pacing horse and some red ribbons; I'll make 
enough beaver to get them for her, and then I'm done ! 
I'll go below and live on a farm." 

" Your bones will dry on the prairie, Rouleau ! " said 
5 another trapper, who was standing by; a strong, brutal- 
looking fellow, with a face as surly as a bulldog's. 

Rouleau only laughed, and began to hum a tune and 
shuffle a dance on his stumps of feet. 

" You'll see us, before long, passing up your way," said 
10 the other man. 

" Well," said I, " stop and take a cup of coffee with 
us " ; and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I prepared 
to leave the fort at once. 

As I rode out, a train of emigrant wagons was passing 
15 across the stream. " Whar are ye goin', stranger ? " Thus 
I was saluted by two or three voices at once. 

" About eighteen miles up the creek." 

" It's mighty late to be going that far ! Make haste, 
ye'd better, and keep a bright lookout for Indians ! " 
20 I thought the advice too good to be neglected. Fording 
the stream, I passed at a round trot over the plains be- 
yond. But " the more haste, the worse speed." I proved 
the truth of the proverb by the time I reached the hills 
three miles from the fort. The trail was faintly marked. 
25 and riding forward with more rapidity than caution, I 
lost sight of it. I kept on in a direct line, guided by 
Laramie Creek, which I could see at intervals darkly 
glistening in the evening sun, at the bottom of the woody 
gulf on my right. Half an hour before sunset I came upon 
30 its banks. There was something exciting in the wild 
solitude of the place. An antelope sprang suddenly from 
the sage bushes before me. As he leaped gracefully not 
thirty yards before my horse, I fired, and instantly he spun 
round and fell. Quite sure of him, I walked my horse 
35 toward him, leisurely reloading my rifle, when, to my 
surprise, he sprang up and trotted rapidly away on three 
legs into the dark recesses of the hills, whither I had no 
time to follow. Ten minutes after, I was passing along 



The War-Parties 135 

the bottom of a deep valley, and chancing to look behind 
me, I saw in the dim light that something was following. 
Supposing it to be a wolf, I slid from my seat and sat 
down behind my horse to shoot it; but as it came up, 
I saw by its motions that it was another antelope. It 5 
approached within a hundred yards, arched its graceful 
neck, and gazed intently. I levelled at the white spot on 
its chest, and was about to fire, when it started off, ran 
first to one side and then to the other, like a vessel tack- 
ing against a wind, and at last stretched away at full 10 
speed. Then it stopped again, looked curiously behind it, 
and trotted up as before; but not so boldly, for it soon 
paused and stood gazing at me. I fired ; it leaped upward 
and fell upon its tracks. Measuring the distance, I found 
it two hundred and four paces. When I stood by his side, 15 
the antelope turned his expiring eye upward. It was like 
a beautiful woman's, dark and rich. " Fortunate that I 
am in a hurry," thought I ; " I might be troubled with 
remorse, if I had time for it." 

Cutting the animal up, not in the most skilful manner, 20 
I hung the meat at the back of my saddle, and rode on 
again. The hills (I could not remember one of them) 
closed around me. " It is too late," thought I, " to go 
forward. I will stay here to-night, and look for the path 
in the morning." As a last effort, however, I ascended 25 
a high hill, from which, to my great satisfaction, I could 
see Laramie Creek stretching before me, twisting from 
side to side amid ragged patches of timber; and far off, 
close beneath the shadows of the trees, the ruins of the 
old trading- fort were visible. I reached them at twilight. 30 
It was far from pleasant, in that uncertain light, to be 
pushing through the dense trees and shrubbery of the 
grove beyond. I listened anxiously for the footfall of 
man or beast. Nothing was stirring but one harmless 
brown bird, chirping among the branches. I was glad 35 
when I gained the open prairie onde more, where I could 
see if anything approached. When I came to the mouth 
of Chugwater, it was totally dark. Slackening the reins, I 



1^6 The Oregon Trail 

let my horse take his own course. He trotted on with 
unerring instinct, and by nine o'clock was scrambling 
down the steep descent into the meadows where we were 
encamped. While I was looking in vain for the light of 
5 the fire, Hendrick, with keener perceptions, gave a loud 
neigh, which was immediately answered in a shrill note 
from the distance. In a moment I was hailed from the 
darkness by the voice of Reynal, who had come out, 
rifle in hand, to see who was approaching. 

10 He, with his squaw, the two Canadians, and the Indian 
boys, were the sole inmates of the camp, Shaw and Henry 
Chatillon being still absent. At noon of the following day 
they came back, their horses looking none the better for 
the journey. Henry seemed dejected. The woman was 

15 dead, and his children must henceforward be exposed, 
without a protector, to the hardships and vicissitudes of 
Indian life. Even in the midst of his grief he had not 
forgotten his attachment to his bourgeois, for he had 
procured among his Indian relatives two beautifully orna- 

20 mented buffalo-robes, which he spread on the ground as a 
present to us. 

Shaw lighted his pipe, and told me in a few words the 
history of his journey. When I went to the fort they left 
me, as I mentioned, at the mouth of Chugwater. They 

25 followed the course of the little stream all day, traversing 
a desolate and barren country. Several times they came 
upon the fresh traces of a large w^ar-party, the same, no 
doubt, from whom we had so narrowly escaped an attack. 
At an hour before sunset, without encountering a human 

30 being by the way, they came upon the lodges of the squaw 
and her brothers, who, in compliance with Henry's mes- 
sage, had left the Indian village, in order to join us at 
our camp. The lodges were already pitched, five in num- 
ber, by the side of the stream. The woman lay in one of 

35 them, reduced to a mere skeleton. For some time she had 
been unable to move or speak. Indeed, nothing had kept 
her alive but the hope of seeing Henry, to whom she was 
strongly and faithfully attached. No sooner did he enter 



The War-Parties 137 

the lodge than she revived, and conversed with him the 
greater part of the night. Early in the morning she was 
lifted into a travail, and the whole party set out toward 
our camp. There were but five warriors; the rest were 
women and children. The whole were in great alarm at 5 
the proximity of the Crow war-party, who would certainly 
have destroyed them without mercy had they met. They 
had advanced only a mile or two when they discerned 
a horseman, far off, on the edge of the horizon. They all 
stopped, gathering together in the greatest anxiety, from lo 
which they did not recover until long after the horseman 
disappeared; then they set out again. Henry was riding 
with Shaw, a few rods in advance of the Indians, when 
Mahto-Tatonka, a younger brother of the woman, hastily 
called after them. Turning back, they found all the 15 
Indians crowded around the travail in which the woman 
was lying. They reached her just in time to hear the 
death-rattle in her throat. In a moment she lay dead 
in the basket of the vehicle. A complete stillness suc- 
ceeded; then the Indians raised in concert their cries of 20 
lamentation over the corpse, and among them Shaw 
clearly distinguished those strange sounds resembling the 
word " Halleluyah," which, together with some other 
accidental coincidences, has given rise to the absurd 
theory that the Indians are descended from the ten lost 25 
tribes of Israel. 

The Indian usage required that Henry, as well as the 
other relatives of the woman, should make valuable 
presents, to be placed by the side of the body at its last 
resting-place. Leaving the Indians, he and Shaw set out 30 
for the camp and reached it, as we have seen, by hard 
pushing, at about noon. Having obtained the necessary 
articles, they immediately returned. It was very late and 
quite dark when they again reached the lodges. They 
were all placed in a deep hollow among the dreary hills. 35 
Four of them were just visible through the gloom, but the 
fifth and largest was illuminated by the ruddy blaze of a 
fire within, glowing through the half-transparent covering 



138 The Oregon Trail 

of raw-hides. There was a perfect stillness as they ap- . 
preached. The lodges seemed without a tenant. Not a 
living thing was stirring; there was something awful in 
the scene. They rode up to the entrance of the lodge, and 
5 there was no sound but the tramp of their horses. A 
squaw came out and took charge of the animals, without 
speaking a vv^ord. Entering, they found the lodge crowded 
with Indians; a fire was burning in the midst, and the 
mourners encircled it in a triple row. Room was made 

10 for the new-comers at the head of the lodge, a robe spread 
for them to sit upon, and a pipe lighted and handed to 
them in perfect silence. Thus they passed the greater 
part of the night. At times the fire would subside into a 
heap of embers, until the dark figures seated around it 

15 were scarcely visible ; then a squaw would drop upon it a 
piece of buffalo-fat, and a bright flame, instantly springing 
up, would reveal on a sudden the crowd of wild faces, 
motionless as bronze. The silence continued unbroken. 
It was a relief to Shaw when daylight returned and he 

20 could escape from this house of mourning. He and Henry 
prepared to return homeward ; first, however, they placed 
the presents they had brought near the body of the 
squaw, which, most gaudily attired, remained in a sitting 
posture in one of the lodges. A fine horse was picketed 

25 not far off, destined to be killed that morning for the 
service of her spirit, for the woman was lame, and could 
not travel on foot over the dismal prairie to the villages 
of the dead. Food, too, was provided, and household 
implements, for her use upon this last journey. 

30 Henry left her to the care of her refatives, and came 
immediately with Shaw to the camp. It was some time 
before he entirely recovered from his dejection. 



CHAPTER XI 

SCENES AT THE CAMP 

" Fierce are Albania's children ; yet they lack 
Not virtues, were those virtues more mature; 
Where is the foe that ever saw their back? 
Who can so well the toil of war endure? " 

Childe Harold. 

Reynal heard guns fired one day, at the distance of a 
mile or two from the camp. He grew nervous instantly. 
Visions of Crow war-parties began to haunt his imagina- 
tion; and when we returned (for we were all absent) he 
renewed his complaints about being left alone with the 5 
Canadians and the squaw. The day after, the cause of 
the alarm appeared. Four trappers, one called Moran, an- 
other Saraphin, and the others nicknamed " Rouleau " 
and " Jean Gras," came to our camp and joined us. They 
it was who fired the guns and disturbed the dreams of our 10 
confederate Reynal. They soon encamped by our side. 
Their rifles, dingy and battered with hard service, rested 
with ours against the old tree; their strong, rude saddles, 
their buffalo-robes, their traps, and the few rough and 
simple articles of their travelling equipment were piled 15 
near our tent. Their mountain-horses were turned to 
graze in the meadow among our own ; and the men them- 
selves, no less rough and hardy, used to lie half the day 
in the shade of our tree, lolling on the grass, lazily smok- 
ing, and telling stories of their adventures; and I defy 20 
the annals of chivalry to furnish the record of a life more 
wild and perilous than that of a Rocky Mountain trapper. 
With this efficient reinforcement the agitation of 
Reynal's nerves subsided. He began to conceive a sort 
of attachment to our old camping-ground ; yet it was time 25 

139 



140 The Oregon Trail 

to change our quarters, since remaining too long on one 
spot must lead to certain unpleasant results, not to be 
borne with unless in a case of dire necessity. The grass 
no longer presented a smooth surface of turf; it was 
6 trampled into mud and clay. So we removed to another 
old tree, larger yet, that grew by the river side at a fur- 
long's distance. Its trunk was full six feet in diameter; 
on one side it was marked by a party of Indians with 
various inexplicable hieroglyphics, commemorating some 

10 warlike enterprise, and aloft among the branches were 
the remains of a scaffolding, where dead bodies had once 
been deposited, after the Indian manner. 

" There comes Bull-Bear," said Henry Chatillon, as we 
sat on the grass at dinner. Looking up, we saw several 

15 horsemen coming over the neighboring hill, and in a 
moment four stately young men rode up and dismounted. 
One of them was Bull-Bear, or Mahto-Tatonka, a com- 
pound name which he inherited from his father, the most 
powerful chief in the Ogillallah band. One of his brothers 

20 and two other young men accompanied him. We shook 
hands with the visitors, and when we had finished our 
meal — for this is the orthodox manner of entertaining 
Indians, even the best of them — we handed to each a tin 
cup of coffee and a biscuit, at which they ejaculated from 

25 the bottom of their throats, " How ! how ! " a monosyl- 
lable by which an Indian contrives to express half the 
emotions that he is susceptible of. Then we lighted the 
pipe, and passed it to them as they squatted on the ground. 
"Where is the village?" 

30 " There," said Mahto-Tatonka, pointing southward ; " it 
will come in two days." 
"Will they go to war?" 
" Yes." 
No man is a philanthropist on the prairie. We wel- 

35 comed this news most cordially, and congratulated our- 
selves that Bordeaux's interested efforts to divert the 
Whirlwind from his congenial vocation of bloodshed had 
failed of success, and that no additional obstacles would 



Scenes at the Camp 141 

interpose between us and our plan of repairing to the 
rendezvous at La Bonte's camp. 

For that and several succeeding days Mahto-Tatonka 
and his friends remained our guests. They devoured the 
relics of our meals; they filled the pipe for us, and also 5 
helped us to smoke it. Sometimes they stretched them- 
selves side by side in the shade, indulging in raillery and 
practical jokes, ill becoming the dignity of brave and 
aspiring w^arriors, such as two of them in reality were. 

Two days dragged away, and on the morning of the 10 
third we hoped confidently to see the Indian village. It 
did not come; so we rode out to look for it. In place of 
the eight hundred Indians we expected, we met one 
solitary savage riding toward us over the prairie, who 
told us that the Indians had changed their plan, and 15 
would not come within three days; still he persisted that 
they were going to the war. Taking along with us this 
messenger of evil tidings, we retraced our footsteps to 
the camp, amusing ourselves by the way with execrat- 
ing Indian inconstancy. When we came in sight of our 20 
little white tent under the big tree, we saw that it no 
longer stood alone. A huge old lodge was erected close 
by its side, discolored by rain and storms, rotten with 
age, with the uncouth figures of horses and men and 
outstretched hands that were painted upon it wellnigh 25 
obliterated. The long poles which supported this squalid 
habitation thrust themselves rakishly out from its pointed 
top, and over its entrance were suspended a " medicine- 
pipe " and various other implements of the magic art. 
While we were yet at a distance, we observed a greatly 30 
increased population, of various colors and dimensions, 
swarming around our quiet encampment. Moran, the 
trapper, having been absent for a day or two, had re- 
turned, it seemed, bringing all his family with him. He 
had taken to himself a wife, for whom he had paid the 35 
established price of one horse. This looks cheap at first 
sight; but in truth the purchase of a squaw is a transac- 
tion which no man should enter into without mature 



142 The Oregon Trail 

deliberation, since it involves not only the payment of 
the first price, but the formidable burden of feeding and 
supporting a rapacious horde of the bride's relatives, 
who hold themselves entitled to feed upon the indis- 
5 creet white man. They gather round like leeches and 
drain him of all he has. 

Moran, like Reynal, had not allied himself to an aristo- 
cratic circle. His relatives occupied but a contemptible 
position in Ogillallah society ; for among these wild demo- 

10 crats of the prairie, as among us, there are virtual dis- 
tinctions of rank and place; though this great advantage 
they have over us, that wealth has no part in determining 
such distinctions. Moran's partner was not the most 
beautiful of her sex, and he had the exceedingly bad taste 

15 to array her in an old calico gown, bought from an emi- 
grant woman, instead of the neat and graceful tunic of 
whitened deer-skin worn ordinarily by the squaws. The 
moving spirit of the establishment, in more senses than 
one, was a hideous old hag of eighty. Human imagina- 

20 tion never conceived hobgoblin or witch more ugly than 
she. You could count all her ribs through the wrinkles 
of the leathery skin that covered them. Her withered 
face more resembled an old skull than the countenance 
of a living being, even to the hollow, darkened sockets, 

25 at the bottom of which glittered her little black eyes. 
Her arms had dwindled away into nothing but whip-cord 
and wire. Her hair, half black, half gray, hung in total 
neglect nearly to the ground, and her sole garment con- 
sisted of the remnant of a discarded buffalo-robe tied 

30 round her waist with a string of hide. Yet the old squaw's 
meagre anatomy was wonderfully strong. She pitched 
the lodge, packed the horses, and did the hardest labor 
of the camp. From morning till night she bustled about 
the lodge, screaming like a screech-owl when anything 

35 displeased her. Then there was her brother, a *' medicine- 
man," or magician, equally gaunt and sinewy with her- 
self. His mouth spread from ear to ear, and his appetite, 
as we had full occasion to learn, was ravenous in propor- 



Scenes at the Camp 143 

tion. The other inmates of the lodge were a young bride 
and bridegroom; the latter one of those idle, good-for- 
nothing fellows who infest an Indian village as well as 
more civilized communities. He was fit neither for hunt- 
ing nor for war ; and one might infer as much from the 5 
stolid, unmeaning expression of his face. The happy 
pair had just entered upon the honeymoon. They would 
stretch a buffalo-robe upon poles, so as to protect them 
from the fierce rays of the sun, and spreading beneath 
this rough canopy a luxuriant couch of furs, would sit 10 
affectionately side by side for half the day, though I could 
not discover that much conversation passed between 
them. Probably they had nothing to say; for an Indian's 
supply of topics for conversation is far from being 
copious. There were half a dozen children, too, playing 15 
and whooping about the camp, shooting birds with little 
bows and arrows, or making miniature lodges of sticks, as 
children of a different complexion build houses of blocks. 
A day passed, and Indians began rapidly to come in. 
Parties of two or three or more would ride up and silently 20 
seat themselves on the grass. The fourth day came at* 
last, when about noon horsemen suddenly appeared into 
view on the summit of the neighboring ridge. They 
descended, and behind them followed a wild procession, 
hurrying in haste and disorder down the hill and over the 25 
plain below; horses, mules, and dogs, heavily burdened 
travaux, mounted warriors, squaws walking amid the 
throng, and a host of children. For a full half-hour they 
continued to pour down ; and keeping directly to the bend 
of the stream, within a furlong of us, they soon assembled 30 
there, a dark and confused throng, until, as if by magic, 
a hundred and fifty tall lodges sprung up. On a sudden 
the lonely plain vv^as transformed into the site of a minia- 
ture city. Countless horses were soon grazing over the 
meadows around us, and the whole prairie was animated 35 
by restless figures careering on horseback or sedately 
stalking in their long white robes. The Whirlwind was 
come at last ! One question yet remained to be answered : 



144 The Oregon Trail 

" Will he go to the war, in order that we, with so respec- 
table an escort, may pass over to the somewhat perilous 
rendezvous at La Bonte's camp ? " 

Still this remained in doubt. Characteristic indecision 
5 perplexed their councils. Indians cannot act in large 
bodies. Though their object be of the highest impor- 
tance, they cannot combine to attain it by a series of 
connected efforts. King Philip, Pontiac, and Tecumseh, 
all felt this to their cost. The Ogillallah once had a 

10 war-chief who could control them, but he was dead, and 
now they were left to the sway of their own unsteady 
impulses. 

This Indian village and its inhabitants will hold a 
prominent place in the rest of the narrative, and perhaps 

15 it may not be amiss to glance for an instant at the savage 
people of which they form a part. The Dahcotah (I pre- 
fer this national designation to the unmeaning French 
name, Sioux) range over a vast territory from the river 
St. Peter's to the Rocky Mountains themselves. They 

20 are divided into several independent bands, united under 
no central government, and acknowledging no common 
head. The same language, usages, and superstitions form 
the sole bond between them. They do not unite even in 
their wars. The bands of the east fight the Objibwas on 

25 the Upper Lakes; those of the west make incessant war 
upon the Snake Indians in the Rocky Mountains. As 
the whole people is divided into bands, so each band is 
divided into villages. Each village has a chief, who is 
honored and obeyed only so far as his personal qualities 

30 may command respect and fear. Sometimes he is a mere 
nominal chief; sometimes his authority is little short of 
absolute, and his fame and influence reach even beyond his 
own village; so that the whole band to which he belongs 
is ready to acknowledge him as their head. This was, a 

35 few years since, the case with the Ogillallah. Courage, 
address, and enterprise may raise any warrior to the 
highest honor, especially if he be the son of a former 
chief, or a member of a numerous family, to support him 



Scenes at the Camp 145 

and avenge his quarrels ; but when he has reached the dig- 
nity of chief, and the old men and warriors, by a peculiar 
ceremony, have formally installed him, let it not be 
imagined that he assumes any of the outward semblances 
of rank and honor. He knows too well on how frail a 5 
tenure he holds his station. He must conciliate his uncer- 
tain subjects. Many a man in the village lives better, 
owns more squaws and more horses, and goes better clad 
than he. Like the Teutonic chiefs of old, he ingratiates 
himself with his young men by making them presents, lO 
hereby often impoverishing himself. Does he fail in gain- 
ing their favor, they will set his authority at naught, 
and may desert him at any moment; for the usages of 
his people have provided no sanctions by which he may 
enforce his authority. Very seldom does it happen, at 15 
least among these western bands, that a chief attains to 
much power, unless he is the head of a numerous family. 
Frequently the village is principally made up of his rela- 
tives and descendants, and the wandering community 
assumes much of the patriarchal character. A people 20 
so loosely united, torn, too, with rankling feuds and 
jealousies, can have little power or efficiency. 

The western Dahcotah have no fixed habitations. Hunt- 
ing and fighting, they wander incessantly, through summer 
and winter. Some are following the herds of buffalo 25 
over the waste of prairie; others are traversing the 
Black Hills, thronging, on horseback and on foot, through 
the dark gulfs and sombre gorges, beneath the vast 
splintering precipices, and emerging at last upon the 
" Parks," those beautiful but most perilous hunting- 30 
grounds. The buffalo supplies them with almost all the 
necessaries of life; with habitations, food, clothing, and 
fuel; with strings for their bows, with thread, cordage, 
and trail-ropes for their horses, with coverings for their 
saddles, with vessels to hold water, with boats to cross 35 
streams, with glue, and with the means of purchasing all 
that they desire from the traders. When the buffalo are 
extinct, they too must dwindle away. 



146 The Oregon Trail 

War is the breath of their nostrils. Against most of 
the neighboring tribes they cherish a deadly, rancorous 
hatred, transmitted from father to son, and inflamed by 
constant aggression and retaliation. Many times a year, 
5 in every village, the Great Spirit is called upon, fasts are 
made, the war-parade is celebrated, and the warriors go 
out by handfuls at a time against the enemy. This fierce 
and evil spirit awakens their most eager aspirations and 
calls forth their greatest energies. It is chiefly this that 

10 saves them from lethargy and utter abasement. Without 
its powerful stimulus they would be like the unwarlike 
tribes beyond the mountains, who are scattered among the 
caves and rocks like beasts, living on roots and reptiles. 
These latter have little of humanity except the form ; but 

15 the proud and ambitious Dahcotah warrior can sometimes 
boast of heroic virtues. It is very seldom that distinction 
and influence are attained among them by any other course 
than that of arms. Their superstition, however, some- 
times gives great power to those among them who pretend 

20 to the character of magicians. Their wild hearts, too, can 
feel the power of oratory and yield deference to the mas- 
ters of it. 

But to return. Look into our tent, or enter, if you can 
bear the stifling smoke and the close atmosphere. There, 

25 wedged close together, you will see a circle of stout war- 
riors, passing the pipe around, joking, telling stories, and 
making themselves merry, after their fashion. We were 
also infested by little copper-colored naked boys and 
snake-eyed girls. They would come up to us muttering 

30 certain words, which, being interpreted, conveyed the 
concise invitation, " Come and eat." Then we would 
rise, cursing the pertinacity of Dahcotah hospitality, which 
allowed scarcely an hour of rest between sun and sun, 
and to which we were bound to do honor, unless we would 

35 offend our entertainers. This necessity was particularly 
burdensome to me, as I was scarcely able to walk from 
the effects of illness, and was, of course, poorly quali- 
fied to dispose of twenty meals a day. Of these sump- 



Scenes at the Camp 147 

tuous banquets I gave a specimen in a former chapter, 
where the tragical fate of the little dog was chronicled. 
So bounteous an entertainment looks like an outgushing 
of good-will; but doubtless one-half, at least, of our kind 
hosts, had they met us alone and unarmed on the prairie, 5 
would have robbed us of our horses, and, perchance, have 
bestowed an arrow upon us besides. Trust not an Indian. 
Let your rifle be ever in your hand. Wear next your 
heart the old chivalric motto, "' Semper paratus." 

One morning we were summoned to the lodge of an 10 
old man, in good truth the Nestor of his tribe. We found 
him half-sitting, half-reclining on a pile of buffalo-robes; 
his long hair, jet-black even now, though he had seen 
some eighty winters, hung on either side of his thin fea- 
tures. Those most conversant with Indians in their homes 15 
will scarcely believe me when I affirm that there was 
dignity in his countenance and mien. His gaunt but 
symmetrical frame did not more clearly exhibit the wreck 
of by-gone strength than did his dark, wasted features, 
still prominent and commanding, bear the stamp of men- 20 
tal energies. I recalled, as I saw him, the eloquent meta- 
phor of the Iroquois sachem : " I am an aged hemlock ; the 
winds of an hundred winters have whistled through my 
branches, and I am dead at the top ! " Opposite the patri- 
arch was his nephew, the young aspirant, Mahto-Tatonka ; 25 
and besides these there w^ere one or two w^omen in the 
lodge. 

The old man's story is peculiar, and singularly illus- 
trative of a superstitious custom that prevails in full force 
among many of the Indian tribes. He was one of a power- 30 
ful family, renowned for their warlike exploits. When 
a very young man, he submitted to the singular rite to 
which most of the tribe subject themselves before enter- 
ing upon life. He painted his face black; then seeking 
out a cavern in a sequestered part of the Black Hills, he 35 
lay for several days, fasting and praying to the Great 
Spirit. In the dreams and visions produced by his weak- 
ened and excited state, he fancied, like all Indians, that 



148 The Oregon Trail 

he saw supernatural revelations. Again and again the 
form of an antelope appeared before him. The antelope 
is the graceful peace-spirit of the Ogillallah; but seldom 
is it that such a gentle visitor presents itself during the 
6 initiatory fasts of their young men. The terrible grizzly 
bear, the divinity of war, usually appears to fire them 
with martial ardor and thirst for renown. At length the 
antelope spoke. He told the young dreamer that he was 
not to follow the path of war; that a life of peace and 

10 tranquillity was marked out for him; that thenceforward 
he was to guide the people by his counsels and protect 
them from the evils of their own feuds and dissensions. 
Others were to gain renown by fighting the enemy; but 
greatness of a different kind was in store for him. 

15 The visions beheld during the period of this fast usually 
determine the whole course of the dreamer's life, for an 
Indian is bound by iron superstitions. From that time, 
Le Borgne, which was the only name by which we knew 
him, abandoned all thoughts of war, and devoted him- 

20 self to the labors of peace. He told his vision to the peo- 
ple. They honored his commission and respected him in 
his novel capacity. 

A far different man was his brother, Mahto-Tatonka, 
who had transmitted his names, his features, and many 

25 of his characteristic qualities to his son. He was the 
father of Henry Chatillon's squaw, a circumstance which 
proved of some advantage to us, as securing for us the 
friendship of a family perhaps the most distinguished 
and powerful in the whole Ogillallah band. Mahto- 

30 Tatonka, in his rude way, was a hero. No chief could 
vie with him in warlike renown or in power over his peo- 
ple. He had a fearless spirit and a most impetuous and 
inflexible resolution. His will was law. He was politic 
and sagacious, and with true Indian craft he always 

35 befriended the whites, well knowing that he might thus 
reap great advantages for himself and his adherents. 
When he had resolved on any course of conduct, he would 
pay to the warriors the empty compliment of calling 



Scenes at the Camp 149 

them together to deliberate upon it, and when their de- 
bates were over, he would quietly state his own opinion, 
which no one ever disputed. The consequences of thwart- 
ing his imperious will were too formidable to be encoun- 
tered. Woe to those who incurred his displeasure ! He 5 
would strike them or stab them on the spot ; and this act, 
which if attempted by any other chief, would instantly 
have cost him his life, the awe inspired by his name 
enabled him to repeat again and again with impunity. 
In a community where, from immemorial time, no man lO 
has acknowledged any law but his own will, Mahto- 
Tatonka, by the force of his dauntless resolution, raised 
himself to power little short of despotic. His haughty 
career came at last to an end. He had a host of enemies 
only waiting for their opportunity of revenge, and our 15 
old friend Smoke, in particular, together with all his 
kinsmen, hated him most cordially. Smoke sat one day 
in his lodge, in the midst of his own village, when Mahto- 
Tatonka entered it alone, and approaching the dwelling 
of his enemy, called on him in a loud voice to come out, 20 
if he were a man, and fight. Smoke would not move. 
At this, Mahto-Tatonka proclaimed him a coward and 
an old woman, and striding close to the entrance of the 
lodge, stabbed the chief's best horse, which was picketed 
there. Smoke was daunted, and even this insult failed 25 
to call him forth. Mahto-Tatonka moved haughtily away ; 
all made way for him, but his hour of reckoning was near. 
One hot day, five or six years ago, numerous lodges 
of Smoke's kinsmen were gathered around some of the 
Fur Company's men, who were trading in various articles 30 
with them, whiskey among the rest. Mahto-Tatonka 
was also there with a few of his people. As he lay in his 
own lodge, a fray arose between his adherents and the 
kinsmen of his enemy. The war-whoop was raised, 
bullets and arrows began to fly, and the camp was in 35 
confusion. The chief sprang up, and rushing in a fury 
from the lodge, shouted to the combatants on both sides 
to cease. Instantly — for the attack was preconcerted — 



i^o The Oregon Trail 

came the reports of two or three guns and the twanging 
of a dozen bows, and the savage hero, mortally wounded, 
pitched forward headlong to the ground. Rouleau was 
present, and told me the particulars. The tumult be- 
5 came general, and was not quelled until several had fallen 
on both sides. When we were in the country the feud 
between the two families was still rankling, and not likely 
soon to cease. 

Thus died Mahto-Tatonka, but he left behind him a 

10 goodly army of descendants to perpetuate his renown 
and avenge his fate. Besides daughters, he had thirty 
sons, a number which need not stagger the credulity of 
those who are best acquainted with Indian usages and 
practices. We saw many of them, all marked by the 

15 same dark complexion, and the same peculiar cast of 
features. Of these our visitor, young Mahto-Tatonka, 
was the eldest, and some reported him as likely to succeed 
to his father's honors. Though he appeared not more 
than twenty-one years old, he had oftener struck the 

20 enemy, and stolen more horses and more squaws than any 
young man in the village. We of the civilized world are 
not apt to attach much credit to the latter species of 
exploits ; but horse-stealing is well known as an avenue to 
distinction on the prairies, and the other kind of depre- 

25 dation is esteemed equally meritorious. Not that the act 
can confer fame from its own intrinsic merits. Any one 
can steal a squaw, and if he chooses afterward to make 
an adequate present to her rightful proprietor, the easy 
husband for the most part rests content, his vengeance 

30 falls asleep, and all danger from that quarter is averted. 
Yet this is esteemed but a pitiful and mean-spirited trans- 
action. The danger is averted, but the glory of the 
achievement also is lost. Mahto-Tatonka proceeded after 
a more gallant and dashing fashion. Out of several 

35 dozen squaws whom he had stolen, he could boast that he 
had never paid for one, but snapping his fingers in the 
face of the injured husband, had defied the extremity of 
his indignation, and no one yet had dared to lay the finger 



Scenes at the Camp 151 

of violence upon him. He was following close in the foot- 
steps of his father. The young men and the young squaws, 
each in their way, admired him. The one would always 
follow him to war, and he was esteemed to have an un- 
rivalled charm in the eyes of the other. Perhaps his 5 
impunity may excite some wonder. An arrow shot from a 
ravine, a stab given in the dark, require no great valor, and 
are especially suited to the Indian genius; but Mahto- 
Tatonka had a strong protection. It was not alone his 
courage and audacious will that enabled him to career so 10 
dashingly among his compeers. His enemies did not for- 
get that he was one of thirty warlike brethren, all grow- 
ing up t© manhood. Should they wreak their anger upon 
him, many keen eyes would be ever upon them, many 
fierce hearts would thirst for their blood. The avenger 15 
would dog their footsteps everywhere. To kill Mahto- 
Tatonka would be no better than an act of suicide. 

Though he found such favor in the eyes of the fair, he 
was no dandy. As among us those of highest worth and 
breeding are most simple in manner and attire, so our 20 
aspiring young friend was indifferent to the gaudy trap- 
pings and ornaments of his companions. He was content 
to rest his chances of success upon his own warlike merit. 
He never arrayed himself in gaudy blanket and glittering 
necklace, but left his statue-like form, limbed like an 25 
Apollo of bronze, to win its way to favor. His voice 
was singularly deep and strong. It sounded from his 
chest like the deep notes of an organ. Yet, after all, he 
was but an Indian. See him as he lies there in the sun 
before our tent, kicking his heels in the air and cracking 30 
jokes with his brother. Does he look like a hero? See 
him now in the hour of his glory, when at sunset the 
whole village empties itself to behold him, for to-morrow 
their favorite young partisan goes out against the enemy. 
His superb head-dress is adorned with a crest of the war- 35 
eagle's feathers, rising in a waving ridge above his brow, 
and sweeping far behind him. His round white shield 
hangs at his breast, with feathers radiating from the 



152 The Oregon Trail 

centre like a star. His quiver is at his back ; his tall lance 
in his hand, the iron point flashing against the declining 
sun, while the long scalp-locks of his enemies flutter from 
the shaft. Thus, gorgeous as a champion in his panoply, 
5 he rides round and round within the great circle of lodges, 
balancing with a graceful buoyancy to the free move- 
ments of his war-horse, while with a sedate brow he sings 
his song to the Great Spirit. Young rival warriors look 
askance at him; vermilion-cheeked girls gaze in admira- 

10 tion; boys whoop and scream in a thrill of delight, and 
old women yell forth his name and proclaim his praises 
from lodge to lodge. 

Mahto-Tatonka, to come back to him, was the best of 
all our Indian friends. Hour after hour and day after 

15 day, when swarms of savages of every age, sex, and degree 
beset our camp, he would lie in our tent, his lynx-eye 
ever open to guard our property from pillage. 

The Whirlwind invited us one day to his lodge. The 
feast was finished, and the pipe began to circulate. It 

20 was a remarkably large and fine one, and I expressed 
my admiration of its form and dimensions. 

"If the Meneaska likes the pipe," asked the Whirlwind, 
" why does he not keep it ? " 

Such a pipe among the Ogillallah is valued at the price 

25 of a horse. A princely gift, thinks the reader, and worthy 
of a chieftain and a warrior. The Whirlwind's generosity 
rose to no such pitch. He gave me the pipe, confidently 
expecting that I in return should make him a present of 
equal or superior value. This is the implied condition of 

30 every gift among the Indians as among the Orientals, 
and should it not be complied with, the present is usually 
reclaimed by the giver. So I arranged upon a gaudy 
calico handkerchief an assortment of vermilion, tobacco, 
knives, and gunpowder, and, summoning the chief to 

35 camp, assured him of my friendship, and begged his 
acceptance of a slight token of it. Ejaculating "how! 
how ! " he folded up the offerings and withdrew to his 
lodge. 



Scenes at the Camp 153 

Several days passed, and we and the Indians remained 
encamped side by side. They could not decide whether 
or not to go to the war. Toward evening, scores of them 
would surround our tent, a picturesque group. Late one 
afternoon a party of them mounted on horseback came 5 
suddenly in sight from behind some clumps of bushes 
that lined the bank of the stream, leading with them a 
mule, on whose back was a wretched negro, only sus- 
tained in his seat by the high pommel and cantle of the 
Indian saddle. His cheeks were withered and shrunken lo 
in the hollow of his jaws; his eyes were unnaturally di- 
lated, and his lips seemed shrivelled and drawn back from 
his teeth like those of a corpse. When they brought him 
up before our tent, and lifted him from the saddle, he 
could not walk or stand, but he crawled a short distance, 15 
and, with a look of utter misery, sat down on the grass. 
All the children and women came pouring out of the 
lodges around us, and with screams and cries made a 
close circle about him, while he sat supporting himself 
with his hands, and looking from side to side with a 20 
vacant stare. The wretch was starving to death ! For 
thirty-three days he had wandered alone on the prairie, 
without weapon of any kind; without shoes, moccasins, or 
any other clothing than an old jacket and pantaloons; 
without intelligence and skill to guide his course, or any 25 
knowledge of the productions of the prairie. All this 
time he had subsisted on crickets and lizards, wild onions, 
and three eggs which he found in the nest of a prairie- 
dove. He had not seen a human being. Utterly be- 
wildered in the boundless, hopeless desert that stretched 30 
around him, offering to his inexperienced eye no mark 
by which to direct his course, he had walked on in despair, 
till he could walk no longer, and then crawled on his knees, 
until the bone was laid bare. He chose the night for his 
travelling, lying down by day to sleep in the glaring sun, 35 
always dreaming, as he said, of the broth and corn-cake he 
used to eat under his old master's shed in Missouri. Every 
man in the camp, both white and red, was astonished at 



154 The Oregon Trail 

his wonderful escape, not only from starvation, but from 
the grizzly bears which abound in that neighborhood, and 
the wolves which howled around him every night. 

Reynal recognized him the moment the Indians brought 
5 him in. He had run away from his master about a year 
before and joined the party of M. Richard, who was then 
leaving the frontier for the mountains. He had lived 
with Richard ever since, until in the end of May he, with 
Reynal and several other men, went out in search of some 

10 stray horses, when he got separated from the rest in a 
storm, and had never been heard of up to this time. 
Knowing his inexperience and helplessness, no one 
dreamed that he could still be living. The Indians had 
found him lying exhausted on the ground. 

15 As he sat there with the Indians gazing silently on 
him, his haggard face and glazed eyes were disgusting to 
look upon. Deslauriers made him a bowl of gruel, but he 
suffered it to remain untasted before him. At length 
he languidly raised the spoon to his lips ; again he did so, 

20 and again ; and then his appetite seemed suddenly in- 
flamed into madness, for he seized the bowl, swallowed 
all its contents in a few seconds, and eagerly demanded 
meat. This we refused, telling him to wait until morning ; 
but he begged so eagerly that we gave him a small piece, 

25 which he devoured, tearing it like a dog. He said he 
must have more. We told him that his life was in danger 
if he ate so immoderately at first. He assented, and said 
he knew he was a fool to do so, but he must have meat. 
This we absolutely refused, to the great indignation of 

30 the senseless squaws, who, when we were not watching 
him, would slyly bring dried meat and pommes hl<inches, 
and place them on the ground at his side. Still this was 
not enough for him. When it grew dark he contrived to 
creep away between the legs of the horses and crawl over 

35 to the Indian village, about a furlong down the stream. 
Here he fed to his heart's content, and was brought 
back again in the morning, when Jean Gras, the trapper, 
put him on horseback and carried him to the fort. He 



Scenes at the Camp 155 

managed to survive the effects of his insane greediness, 
and though slightly deranged when he left this part of 
the country, he was otherwise in tolerable health, and 
expressed his firm conviction that nothing could ever kill 
him. 5 

When the sun was yet an hour high, it was a gay scene 
in the village. The warrior stalked sedately among the 
lodges, or along the margin of the streams, or walked 
out to visit the bands of horses that were feeding over 
the prairie. Half the village population deserted the lO 
close and heated lodges and betook themselves to the 
water; and here you might see boys and girls and young 
squaws splashing, swimming, and diving beneath the 
afternoon sun, with merry laughter and screaming. But 
when the sun was just resting above the broken peaks, 15 
and the purple mountains threw their prolonged shadows 
for miles over the prairie ; when our grim old tree, lighted 
by the horizontal rays, assumed the aspect of peaceful 
repose, such as one loves after scenes of tumult and 
excitement ; and when the whole landscape of swelling 20 
plains and scattered groves was softened into a tran- 
quil beauty, then our encampment presented a striking 
spectacle. Could Salvator Rosa have transferred it to 
his canvas, it would have added new renown to his pencil. 
Savage figures surrounded our tent, with quivers at their 25 
backs, and guns, lances, or tomahawks in their hands. 
Some sat on horseback, motionless as equestrian statues, 
their arms crossed on their breasts, their eyes fixed in a 
steady, unwavering gaze upon us. Some stood erect, 
wrapped from head to foot in their long white robes of 30 
buffalo-hide. Some sat together on the grass, holding 
their shaggy horses by a rope, with their broad dark busts 
exposed to view as they suffered their robes to fall from 
their shoulders. Others again stood carelessly among 
the throng, with nothing to conceal the matchless sym- 35 
metry of their forms ; and I do not exaggerate when I say 
that only on the prairie and in the Vatican have I seen 
such faultless models of the human figure. See that 



156 The Oregon Trail 

warrior standing by the tree, towering six feet and a 
half in stature. Your eyes may trace the whole of his 
graceful and majestic height, and discover no defect or 
blemish. With his free and noble attitude, with the bow 
5 in his hand, and the quiver at his back, he might seem, 
but for his face, the Pythian Apollo himself. Such a 
figure rose before the imagination of West, when on 
first seeing the Belvedere in the Vatican, he exclaimed, 
" By God, a Mohawk ! " 

10 When the sky darkened and the stars began to appear ; 
when the prairie was involved in gloom, and the horses 
were driven in and secured around the camp, the crowd 
began to melt away. Fires gleamed around, duskily re- 
vealing the rough trappers and the graceful Indians. One 

15 of the families near us would always be gathered about a 
bright blaze, that displayed the shadowy dimensions of 
their lodge and sent its lights far up among the masses 
of foliage above, gilding the dead and ragged branches. 
Withered witch-like hags flitted around the blaze; and 

20 here for hour after hour sat a circle of children and young 
girls, laughing and talking, their round merry faces glow- 
ing in the ruddy light. We could hear the monotonous 
notes of the drum from the Indian village, with the chant 
of the war-song, deadened in the distance, and the long 

25 chorus of quavering yells, where the war-dance was going 
on in the largest lodge. For several nights, too, we could 
hear wild and mournful cries, rising and dying away like 
the melancholy voice of a wolf.' They came from the sis- 
ters and female relatives of Mahto-Tatonka, who were 

30 gashing their limbs with knives and bewailing the death of 
Henry Chatillon's squaw. The hour would grow late be- 
fore all retired to rest in the camp. Then the embers of 
the fires would be glowing dimly, the men would be 
stretched in their blankets on the ground, and nothing 

35 could be heard but the restless motion of the crowded 
horses. 

I recall these scenes with a mixed feeling of pleasure 
and pain. At this time I was so reduced by illness that 



Scenes at the Camp 157 

I could seldom walk without reeling like a drunken man, 
and when I rose from my seat upon the ground the land- 
scape suddenly grew dim before my eyes, the trees and 
lodges seemed to sway to and fro, and the prairie to rise 
and fall like the swells of the ocean. Such a state of 5 
things is by no means enviable anywhere. In a country 
where a man's life may at any moment depend on the 
strength of his arm, or it may be on the activity of his 
legs, it is more particularly inconvenient. Medical assist- 
ance, of course, there was none ; neither had I the means of 10 
pursuing a system of diet; and sleeping on damp ground, 
with an occasional drenching from a shower, would hardly 
be recommended as beneficial. I sometimes suffered the 
extremity of languor and exhaustion, and though at the 
time I felt no apprehensions of the final result, I have 15 
since learned that my situation was a critical one. 

Besides other formidable inconveniences, I owe it in a 
great measure to the remote effects of that unlucky dis- 
order that from deficient eyesight I am compelled to 
employ the pen of another in taking down this narrative 20 
from my lips; and I have learned very effectually that a 
violent attack of dysentery on the prairie is a thing too 
serious for a joke. I tried repose on a very sparing diet. 
For a long time, with exemplary patience, I lounged about 
the camp, or, at the utmost, staggered over to the Indian 25 
village and walked faint and dizzy among the lodges. It 
would not do ; and I bethought me of starvation. During 
five days I sustained life on one small biscuit a day. At 
the end of that time I was weaker than before, but the 
disorder seemed shaken in its stronghold, and very gradu- 35 
ally I began to resume a less rigid diet. No sooner had I 
done so than the same detested symptoms revisited me ; my 
old enemy resumed his pertinacious assaults, yet not with 
his former violence or constancy; and though before I 
regained any fair portion of my ordinary strength weeks 35 
had elapsed, and months passed before the disorder left 
me, yet thanks to old habits of activity, and a merciful 
Providence, I was able to sustain myself against it. 



158 The Oregon Trail 

I used to lie languid and dreamy before our tent and 
muse on the past and the future, and when most overcome 
with lassitude, my eyes turned always toward the distant 
Black Hills. There is a spirit of energy and vigor in 

5 mountains, and they impart it to all who approach their 
presence. At that time I did not know how many dark 
superstitions and gloomy legends are associated with those 
mountains in the minds of the Indians, but I felt an eager 
desire to penetrate their hidden recesses, to explore the 

10 awful chasms and precipices, the black torrents, the silent 
forests, that I fancied were concealed there. 



CHAPTER XII 

ILL LUCK 

" One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
When they reach' d the hall-door, and the charger stood 

near; 
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung. 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 
'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young 
Lochinvar." 

Marmion. 

A Canadian came from Fort Laramie and brought a 
curious piece of intelligence. A trapper, fresh from the 
mountains, had become enamored of a Missouri damsel 
belonging to a family who, with other emigrants, had 
been for some days encamped in the neighborhood of the 5 
fort. If bravery be the most potent charm to win the 
favor of the fair, then no wooer could be more irresistible 
than a Rocky Mountain trapper. In the present instance, 
the suit was not urged in vain. The lovers concerted a 
scheme, which they proceeded to carry into effect with all 10 
possible dispatch. The emigrant party left the fort, and 
on the next succeeding night but one encamped as usual, 
and placed a guard. A little after midnight the enamored 
trapper drew near, mounted on a strong horse, and lead- 
ing another by the bridle. Fastening both animals to a 15 
tree, he stealthily moved toward the wagons, as if he 
were approaching a band of buffalo. Eluding the vigilance 
of the guard, who were probably half-asleep, he met his 
mistress by appointment at the outskirts of the camp, 
mounted her on his spare horse, and made off with her 20 
through the darkness. The sequel of the adventure did 
not reach our ears, and we never learned how the im- 

159 



i6o The Oregon Trail 

prudent fair one liked an Indian lodge for a dwelling and a 
reckless trapper for a bridegroom. 

At length the Whirlwind and his warriors determined to 
move. They had resolved after all their preparations not 
5 to go to the rendezvous at La Bonte's camp, but to pass 
through the Black Hills and spend a few weeks in hunting 
the buffalo on the other side, until they had killed enough 
to furnish them with a stock of provisions and with hides 
to make their lodges for the next season. This done, they 

10 were to send out a small independent war-party against 
the enemy. Their final determination left us in some em- 
barrassment. Should we go to La Bonte's camp, it was 
not impossible that the other villages should prove as 
vacillating and indecisive as the Whirlwind's, and that no 

15 assembly whatever would take place. Our old companion 
Reynal had conceived a liking for us, or rather for our 
biscuit and coffee, and for the occasional small presents 
which we made him. He was very anxious that we should 
go with the village which he himself intended to accom- 

20 pany. He declared he was certain that no Indians would 
meet at the rendezvous, and said, moreover, that it would 
be easy to convey our cart and baggage through the Black 
Hills. In saying this, he told, as usual, an egregious false- 
hood. Neither he nor any white man with us had ever 

25 seen the difficult and obscure defiles through which the 
Indians intended to make their way. I passed them after- 
ward, and had much ado to force my distressed horse along 
the narrow ravines and through chasms where daylight 
could scarcely penetrate. Our cart might as easily have 

30 been conveyed over the summit of Pike's Peak. Antici- 
pating the difficulties and uncertainties of an attempt to 
visit the rendezvous, we recalled the old proverb about 
" A bird in the hand," and decided to follow the village. 
Both camps, the Indians* and our own, broke up on the 

35 morning of the first of July. I was so weak that the aid 
of a potent auxiliary, a spoonful of whiskey, swallowed 
at short intervals, alone enabled me to sit my hardy 
little mare Pauline through the short journey of that 



Ill Luck i6i 

day. For half a mile before us and half a mile behind, 
the prairie was covered far and wide with the moving 
throng of savages. The barren, broken plain stretched 
away to the right and left, and far in front rose the 
gloomy precipitous ridge of the Black Hills. We pushed 5 
forward to the head of the scattered column, passing the 
burdened travaiix, the heavily laden pack-horses, the 
gaunt old women on foot, the gay young squaws on horse- 
back, the restless children running among the crowd, old 
men striding along in their white buffalo-robes, and 10 
groups of young warriors mounted on their best horses. 
Henry Chatillon, looking backward over the distant 
prairie, exclaimed suddenly that a horseman was approach- 
ing, and in truth we could just discern a small black 
speck slowly moving over the face of a distant swell, like 15 
a fly creeping on a wall. It rapidly grew larger as it 
approached. 

"White man, I b'lieve," said Henry; "look how he 
ride! Indian never ride that way. Yes; he got rifle on 
the saddle before him." 20 

The horseman disappeared in a hollow of the prairie, 
but we soon saw him again, and as he came riding at a 
gallop toward us through the crowd of Indians, his long 
hair streaming in the wind behind him, we recognized the 
ruddy face and old buckskin frock of Jean Gras, the 25 
trapper. He was just arrived from Fort Laramie, where 
he had been on a visit, and said he had a message for us. 
A trader named Bisonette, one of Henry's friends, was 
lately come from the settlements, and intended to go 
with a party of men to La Bontes' camp, where, as Jean 30 
Gras assured us, ten or twelve villages of Indians would 
certainly assemble. Bisonette desired that we would 
cross over and meet him there, and promised that his 
men should protect our horses and baggage while we 
went among the Indians. Shaw and I stopped our horses 35 
and held a council, and in an evil hour resolved to go. 

For the rest of that day's journey our course and that 
of the Indians was the same. In less than an hour we 



1 62 The Oregon Trail 

came to where the high barren prairie terminated, sinking 
down abruptly in steep descent; and standing on these 
heights, we saw below us a great level meadow. Laramie 
Creek bounded it on the left, sweeping along in the shadow 
5 of the declivities, and passing with its shallow and rapid 
current just below us. We sat on horseback, waiting and 
looking on, while the whole savage array went pouring 
past us, hurrying down the descent, and spreading them- 
selves over the meadow below. In a few moments the 

10 plain was swarming with the moving multitudes, some just 
visible, like specks in the distance, others still passing on, 
pressing down, and fording the stream with bustle and 
confusion. On the edge of the heights sat half a dozen of 
the elder warriors, gravely smoking and looking down 

15 with unmoved faces on the wild and striking spectacle. 

Up went the lodges in a circle on the margin of the 

stream. For the sake of quiet we pitched our tent among 

some trees at half a mile's distance. In the afternoon we 

were in the village. The day was a glorious one, and the 

20 whole camp seemed lively and animated in sympathy. 
Groups of children and young girls were laughing gayly 
on the outside of the lodges. The shields, the lances, and 
the bows were removed from the tall tripods on which 
they usually hung before the dwellings of their owners. 

25 The warriors were mounting their horses, and one by one 

riding away over the prairie toward the neighboring hills. 

Shaw and I sat on the grass near the lodge of Reynal. 

An old woman, with true Indian hospitality, brought a 

bowl of boiled venison and placed it before us. We 

30 amused ourselves with watching half a dozen young 
squaws who were playing together and chasing each other 
in and out of one of the lodges. Suddenly the wild yell of 
the war-whoop came pealing from the hills. A crowd of 
horsemen appeared, rushing down their sides, and riding 

35 at full speed toward the village, each warrior's long hair 
flying behind him in the wind like a ship's streamer. As 
they approached, the confused throng assumed a regular 
order, and entering two by two, they circled round the 



Ill Luck 163 

area at full gallop, each warrior singing his war-song as 
he rode. Some of their dresses were splendid. They 
wore superb crests of feathers and close tunics of ante- 
lope-skins, fringed with the scalp-locks of their enemies; 
their shields too were often fluttering with the war- 5 
eagle's feathers. All had bows and arrows at their backs ; 
some carried long lances, and a few were armed with 
guns. The White Shield, their partisan, rode in gorgeous 
attire at their head, mounted on a black-and-white horse. 
Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers took no part in this 10 
parade, for they were in mourning for their sister, and 
were all sitting in their lodges, their bodies bedaubed from 
head to foot with white clay, and a lock of hair cut from 
each of their foreheads. 

The warriors circled three times round the village ; and 15 
as each distinguished champion passed, the old women 
would scream out his name, in honor of his bravery, and 
to incite the emulation of the younger warriors. Little 
urchins, not two years old, followed the warlike pageant 
with glittering eyes, and looked with eager wonder and 20 
admiration at those whose honors were proclaimed by 
the public voice of the village. Thus early is the lesson 
of war instilled into the mind of an Indian, and such are 
the stimulants which excite his thirst for martial renown. 

The procession rode out of the village as it had entered 25 
it, and in half an hour all the warriors had returned again, 
dropping quietly in, singly or in parties of two or three. 

As the sun rose next morning we looked across the 
meadow, and could see the lodges levelled and the In- 
dians gathering together in preparation to leave the camp. 30 
Their course lay to the westward. We turned toward 
the north with our three men, the four trappers follow- 
ing us, with the Indian family of Moran. We travelled 
until night. I suffered not a little pain and v/eakness. We 
encamped among some trees by the side of a little brook, 35 
and here during the whole of the next day we lay waiting 
for Bisonette, but no Bisonette appeared. Here also two 
of our trapper friends left us, and set out for the Rocky 



164 The Oregon Trail 

Mountains. On the second morning, despairing of 
Bisonette's arrival, we resumed our journey, traversing a 
forlorn and dreary monotony of sun-scorched plains, 
where no living thing appeared save here and there an 
5 antelope flying before us like the wind. When noon came 
we saw an unwonted and most welcome sight ; a rich and 
luxuriant growth of trees, marking the course of a little 
stream called Horse-Shoe Creek. We turned gladly 
toward it. There were lofty and spreading trees, standing 

10 widely asunder, and supporting a thick canopy of leaves 
above a surface of rich, tall grass. The stream ran 
swiftly, as clear as crystal, through the bosom of the 
wood, sparkling over its bed of white sand, and darkening 
again as it entered a deep cavern of leaves and boughs. I 

15 was thoroughly exhausted, and flung myself on the ground, 
scarcely able to move. All that afternoon I lay in the 
shade by the side of the stream, and those bright woods 
and sparkling waters are associated in my mind with 
recollections of lassitude and utter prostration. When 

20 night came I sat down by the fire, longing, with an inten- 
sity of which at this moment I can hardly conceive, for 
some powerful stimulant. 

In the morning, as glorious a sun rose upon us as ever 
animated that desolate wilderness. We advanced and 

25 soon were surrounded by tall bare hills, overspread from 
top to bottom with prickly-pears and other cacti, that 
seemed like clinging reptiles. A plain, flat and hard, and 
with scarcely the vestige of grass, lay before us, and 
a line of tall misshapen trees bounded the onward 

30 view. There was no sight or sound of man or beast, or 
any living thing, although behind those trees was the 
long-looked- for place of rendezvous, where we fondly 
hoped to have found the Indians congregated by thou- 
sands. We looked and listened anxiously. We pushed 

35 forward with our best speed, and forced our horses 
through the trees. There were copses of some extent be- 
yond, with a scanty stream creeping through their midst; 
and as we pressed through the yielding branches, deer 



Ill Luck 165 

sprang up to the right and left. At length we caught a 
glimpse of the prairie beyond. Soon we emerged upon it, 
and saw, not a plain covered with encampments and 
swarming with life, but a vast unbroken desert, stretching 
away before us league upon league, without a bush or a 5 
tree or anything that had life. We drew rein and gave 
to the winds our sentiments concerning the whole aborigi- 
nal race of America. Our journey was in vain, and much 
worse than in vain. For myself, I was vexed and dis- 
appointed beyond measure ; as I well knew that a slight 10 
aggravation of my disorder would render this false step 
irrevocable, and make it quite impossible to accomplish 
effectually the design which had led me an arduous jour- 
ney of between three and four thousand miles. To fortify 
myself as well as I could against such a contingency, I 15 
resolved that I would not under any circumstances attempt 
to leave the country until my object was completely gained. 

And where were the Indians? They were assembled 
in great numbers at a spot about twenty miles distant, 
and there at that very moment they were engaged in 20 
their warlike ceremonies. The scarcity of buffalo in the 
vicinity of La Bonte's camp, which would render their 
supply of provisions scanty and precarious, had probably 
prevented them from assembling there; but of all this we 
knew nothing until some weeks after. 25 

Shaw lashed his horse and galloped forward. I, though 
much more vexed than he, was not strong enough to 
adopt this convenient vent to my feelings ; so I followed 
at a quiet pace, but in no quiet mood. We rode up to a 
solitary old tree, which seemed the only place fit for an 30 
encampment. Half its branches were dead, and the rest 
were so scantily furnished with leaves that they cast but 
a meagre and wretched shade, and the old twisted trunk 
alone furnished sufficient protection from the sun. We 
threw down our saddles in the strip of shadow that it 35 
cast, and sat down upon them. In silent indignation we re- 
mained smoking for an hour or more, shifting our saddles 
with the shifting shadow, for the sun was intolerably hot. 



CHAPTER XIII 

HUNTING INDIANS 

" I tread. 
With fainting steps and slow, 
Where wilds immeasurably spread 
Seem lengthening as I go." — Goldsmith. 

At last we had reached La Bonte's camp, toward which 
our eyes had turned so long. Of all weary hours, those 
that passed between noon and sunset of the day when we 
arrived there may bear away the palm of exquisite dis- 
5 comfort. I lay under the tree reflecting on what course 
to pursue, watching the shadows which seemed never to 
move, and the sun which remained fixed in the sky, and 
hoping every moment to see the men and horses of Bison- 
ette emerging from the woods. Shaw and Henry had 

10 ridden out on a scouting expedition, and did not return 
until the sun was setting. There was nothing very cheer- 
ful in their faces nor in the news they brought. 

" We have been ten miles from here," said Shaw. 
" We climbed the highest butte we could find, and could 

15 not see a buffalo or Indian ; nothing but prairie for twenty 
miles around us." Henry's horse was quite disabled by 
clambering up and down the sides of ravines, and Shaw's 
was severely fatigued. 

After supper that evening, as we sat around the fire, 

20 I proposed to Shaw to wait one day longer, in hopes of 
Bisonette's arrival, and if he should not come, to send 
Deslauriers with the cart and baggage back to Fort 
Laramie, while we ourselves followed the Whirlwind's 
village and attempted to overtake it as it passed the moun- 

25 tains. Shaw, not having the same motive for hunting 
Indians that I had, was averse to the plan; I therefore 

i66 



Hunting Indians 167 

resolved to go alone. This design I adopted very unwill- 
ingly, for I knew that in the present state of my health the 
attempt would be extremely unpleasant, and, as I consid- 
ered, hazardous. I hoped that Bisonette would appear in 
the course of the following day, and bring us some in- 5 
formation by which to direct our course, and enable me to 
accomplish my purpose by means less objectionable. 

The rifle of Henry Chatillon was necessary for the sub- 
sistence of the party in my absence; so I called Raymond 
and ordered him to prepare to set out with me. Ray- 10 
mond rolled his eyes vacantly about, but at length, having 
succeeded in grappling with the idea, he withdrew to his 
bed under the cart. He was a heavy-moulded fellow, 
with a broad face, exactly like an owl's, expressing the 
most impenetrable stupidity and entire self-confidence. 15 
As for his good qualities, he had a sort of stubborn fidelity, 
an insensibility to danger, and a kind of instinct or sa- 
gacity, which sometimes led him right where better heads 
than his were at a loss. Besides this, he knew very well 
how to handle a rifle and picket a horse. 20 

Through the following day the sun glared down upon 
us with a pitiless, penetrating heat. The distant blue 
prairie seemed quivering under it. The lodge of our 
Indian associates was baking in the rays, and our rifles, 
as they leaned against the tree, were too hot for the touch. 25 
There was a dead silence through our camp and all around 
it, unbroken except by the hum of gnats and mosquitoes. 
The men, resting their foreheads on their arms, were sleep- 
ing under the cart. The Indians kept close within their 
lodge, except the newly married pair, who were seated 30 
together under an awning of buffalo-robes, and the old 
conjurer, who, with his hard, emaciated face and gaunt 
ribs, was perched aloft like a turkey-buzzard among the 
dead branches of an old tree, constantly on the lookout 
for enemies. He would have made a capital shot. A 35 
rifle bullet, skilfully planted, would have brought him 
tumbling to the ground. Surely, I thought, there could 
be no more harm in shooting such a hideous old villain, 



1 68 The Oregon Trail 

to see how ugly he would look when he was dead, than in 
shooting the detestable vulture which he resembled. We 
dined, and then Shaw saddled his horse. 

" I will ride back," said he, " to Horse-Shoe Creek, and 
5 see if Bisonette is there." 

" I would go with you," I answered, " but I must reserve 
all the strength I have." 

The afternoon dragged away at last. I occupied myself 
in cleaning my rifle and pistols, and making other prepara- 
10 tions for the journey. After supper, Henry Chatillon 
and I lay by the fire, discussing the properties of that 
admirable weapon, the rifle, in the use of which he could 
fairly out-rival Leatherstocking himself. 

It was late before I wrapped myself in my blanket and 
15 lay down for the night, with my head on my saddle. 
Shaw had not returned, but this gave us no uneasiness, 
for we presumed that he had fallen in with Bisonette, and 
was spending the night with him. For a day or two past 
I had gained in strength and health, but about midnight 
20 an attack of pain awoke me, and for some hours I felt no 
inclination to sleep. The moon was quivering on the 
broad breast of the Platte ; nothing could be heard except 
those low inexplicable sounds, like whisperings and foot- 
steps, which no one who has spent the night alone amid 
25 deserts and forests will be at a loss to understand. As I 
was falling asleep, a familiar voice, shouting from the 
distance, awoke me again. A rapid step approached the 
camp, and Shaw on foot, with his gun in his hand, hastily 
entered. 
30 "Where's your horse?" said I, raising myself on my 
elbow. 

" Lost ! " said Shaw. " Where's Deslauriers? " 
" There," I replied, pointing to a confused mass of 
blankets and buffalo-robes. 
35 Shaw touched them with the butt of his gun, and up 
sprang our faithful Canadian. 

" Come, Deslauriers ; stir up the fire, and get me some- 
thing to eat." 



Hunting Indians 169 

"Where's Bisohette?" asked I. 

" The Lord knows ; there's nobody at Horse-Shoe 
Creek." 

Shaw had gone back to the spot where we had en- 
camped two days before, and finding nothing there but the 5 
ashes of our fires, he had tied his horse to the tree while 
he bathed in the stream. Something startled his horse, 
who broke loose, and for two hours Shaw tried in vain to 
catch him. Sunset approached, and it was twelve miles 
to camp. So he abandoned the attempt, and set out on 10 
foot to join us. The greater part of his perilous and soli- 
tary work was performed in darkness. His moccasins 
were worn to tatters and his feet severely lacerated. He 
sat down to eat, however, with the usual equanimity of 
his temper not at all disturbed by his misfortune, and my 15 
last recollection before falling asleep was of Shaw, seated 
cross-legged before the fire, smoking his pipe. The horse, 
I may as well mention here, was found next morning by 
Henry Chatillon. 

When I awoke again there was a fresh damp smell in 20 
the air, a gray twilight involved the prairie, and above 
its eastern verge was a streak of cold red sky. I called 
to the men, and in a moment a fire was blazing brightly 
in the dim morning light, and breakfast was getting 
ready. We sat down together on the grass, to the last 25 
civilized meal which Raymond and I were destined to 
enjoy for some time. 

" Now bring in the horses." 

My little mare Pauline was soon standing by the fire. 
She was a fleet, hardy, and gentle animal, christened 30 
after Paul Dorion, from whom I had procured her in 
exchange for Pontiac. She did not look as if equipped 
for a morning pleasure ride. In front of the black, high- 
bowed mountain-saddle, holsters, with heavy pistols, were 
fastened. A pair of saddlebags, a blanket tightly rolled, a 35 
small parcel of Indian presents tied up in a buffalo-skin, 
a leather bag of flour, and a smaller one of tea were all 
secured behind, and a long trail-rope was wound round 



170 The Oregon Trail 

her neck. Raymond had a strong black mule, equipped 
in a similar manner. We crammed our powder-horns to 
the throat, and mounted. 

" I will meet you at Fort Laramie on the first of Au- 
5 gust," said I to Shaw. 

" That is," replied he, " if we don't meet before that. 
I think I shall follow after you in a day or two." 

This, in fact, he attempted, and he would have suc- 
ceeded if he had not encountered obstacles against which 

10 his resolute spirit was of no avail. Two days after I left 
him he sent Deslauriers to the fort with the cart and bag- 
gage, and set out for the mountains with Henry Chatillon ; 
but a tremendous thunder-storm had deluged the prairie, 
and nearly obliterated not only our trail but that of the 

15 Indians themselves. They followed along the base of the 
mountains, at a loss in which direction to go. They en- 
camped there, and in the morning Shaw found himself 
poisoned by ivy in such a manner that it was impossible 
for him to travel. So they turned back reluctantly toward 

20 Fort Laramie. Shaw's limbs were swollen to double 
their usual size, and he rode in great pain. They encamped 
again within twenty miles' of the fort, and reached it early 
on the following morning. Shaw lay seriously ill for a 
week, and remained at the fort till I rejoined him some 

25 time after. 

To return to my own story. We shook hands with our 
friends, rode out upon the prairie, and clambering the 
sandy hollows that were channelled in the side of the hills, 
gained the high plains above. If a curse had been pro- 

30 nounced upon the land, it could not have worn an aspect 
of more dreary and forlorn barrenness. There were 
abrupt broken hills, deep hollows, and wide plains; but 
all alike glared with an insupportable whiteness under 
the burning sun. The country, as if parched by the heat, 

35 had cracked into innumerable fissures and ravines, that 
not a little impeded our progress. Their steep sides were 
white and raw, and along the bottom we several times 
discovered the broad tracks of the terrific grizzly bear, 



Hunting Indians 171 

nowhere more abundant than in this region. The ridges 
of the hills were hard as rock, and strewn with pebbles 
of flint and coarse red jasper; looking from them, there 
was nothing to relieve the desert uniformity of the pros- 
pect, save here and there a pine tree clinging at the edge 5 
of a ravine, and stretching over its rough, shaggy arms. 
Under the scorching heat these melancholy trees diffused 
their peculiar resinous odor through the sultry air. There 
was something in it, as I approached them, that recalled 
old associations; the pine-clad mountains of New Eng- 10 
land, traversed in days of health and buoyancy, rose 
like a reality before my fancy. In passing that arid waste 
I was goaded with a morbid thirst produced by my dis- 
order, and I thought with a longing desire on the crystal 
treasure poured in such wasteful profusion from our thou- 15 
sand hills. Shutting my eyes, I more than half-believed 
that I heard the deep plunging and gurgling of waters in 
the bowels of the shaded rocks. I could see their dark 
icy glittering far down amid the crevices, and the cold 
drops trickling from the long green mosses. 20 

When noon came, we found a little stream, with a few 
trees and bushes; and here we rested for an hour. Then 
we travelled on, guided by the sun, until, just before 
sunset, we reached another stream called Bitter Cotton- 
wood Creek. A thick growth of bushes and old storm- 25 
beaten trees grew at intervals along its bank. Near the 
foot of one of the trees we flung down our saddles, and 
hobbling our horses, turned them loose to feed. The little 
stream was clear and swift, and ran musically over its 
white sands. Small water-birds were splashing in the 30 
shallows, and filling the air with their cries and flutterings. 
The sun was just sinking among gold and crimson clouds 
behind Mount Laramie. I well remember how I lay upon 
a log by the margin of the water and watched the rest- 
less motions of the little fish in a deep still nook below. 35 
Strange to say, I seemed to have gained strength since the 
morning, and almost felt a sense of returning health. 

We built our fire. Night came, and the wolves began 



172 The Oregon Trail 

to howl. One deep voice commenced, and it was an- 
swered in awful responses from the hills, the plains, and 
the woods along the stream above and below us. Such 
sounds need not and do not disturb one's sleep upon the 
5 prairie. We picketed the mare and the mule close at 
our feet, and did not awake until daylight. Then we 
turned them loose, still hobbled, to feed for an hour before 
starting. We were getting ready our morning's meal, 
when Raymond saw an antelope at half a mile's distance, 

10 and said he would go and shoot it. 

" Your business," said I, " is to look after the animals. 
I am too weak to do much if anything happens to them, 
and you must keep within sight of the camp." 

Raymond promised, and set out with his rifle in his 

15 hand. The animals had passed across the stream, and 
were feeding among the long grass on the other side, 
much tormented by the attacks of the numerous large 
green-headed flies. As I watched them, I saw them go 
down into a hollow, and as several minutes elapsed with- 

20 out their reappearing, I waded through the stream to 
look after them. To my vexation and alarm I discovered 
them at a great distance, galloping away at full speed, 
Pauline in advance, with her hobbles broken, and the 
mule, still fettered, following with awkward leaps. I 

25 fired my rifle and shouted to recall Raymond. In a 
moment he came running through the stream, with a 
red handkerchief bound round his head. I pointed to 
the fugitives, and ordered him to pursue them. Mutter- 
ing a " Sacre ! " between his teeth, he set out at full speed, 

30 still swinging his rifle in his hand. I walked up to the top 
of a hill, and looking away over the prairie, could just 
distinguish the runaways, still at full gallop. Returning 
to the fire, I sat down at the foot of a tree. Wearily and 
anxiously hour after hour passed away. The old loose 

35 bark dangling from the trunk behind me flapped to and 
fro in the wind, and the mosquitoes kept up their inces- 
sant drowsy humming; but other than this, there was no 
sight nor sound of life throughout the burning landscape. 



Hunting Indians 173 

The sun rose higher and higher, until the shadows fell 
almost perpendicularly, and I knew that it must be noon. 
It seemed scarcely possible that the animals could be 
recovered. If they were not, my situation was one of 
serious difficulty. Shaw, when I left him, had decided 5 
to move that morning, but whither he had not deter- 
mined. To look for him would be a vain attempt. Fort 
Laramie was forty miles distant, and I could not walk a 
mile without great effort. Not then having learned the 
sound philosophy of yielding to disproportionate obstacles, 10 
I resolved to continue in any event the pursuit of the 
Indians. Only one plan occurred to me : this was to send 
^Raymond to the fort with an order for more horses, while 
I remained on the spot, awaiting his return, which might 
take place within three days. But the adoption of this 15 
resolution did not wholly allay my anxiety, for it involved 
both uncertainty and danger. To remain stationary and 
alone for three days, in a country full of dangerous In- 
dians, was not the most flattering of prospects; and 
protracted as my Indian hunt must be by such delay, it 20 
was not easy to foretell its ultimate result. Revolving 
these matters, I grew hungry; and as our stock of pro- 
visions, except four or five pounds of flour, was by this 
time exhausted, I left the camp to see what game I could 
find. Nothing could be seen except four or five large 25 
curlew, which, with their loud screaming, were wheeling 
over my head, and now and then alighting upon the 
prairie. I shot two of them, and was about returning, 
when a startling sight caught my eye. A small, dark 
object, like a human head, suddenly appeared, and van- 30 
ished among the thick bushes along the stream below. 
In that country every stranger is a suspected enemy. 
Instinctively I threw forward the muzzle of my rifle. In 
a moment the bushes were violently shaken, two heads, 
but not human heads, protruded, and to my great joy I 35 
recognized the downcast, disconsolate countenance of the 
black mule and the yellow visage of Pauline. Raymond 
came upon the mule, pale and haggard, complaining of 



174 The Oregon Trail 

a fiery pain in his chest. I took charge of the animals 
while he kneeled down by the side of the stream to drink. 
He had kept the runaways in sight as far as the Side 
Fork of Laramie Creek, a distance of more than ten miles; 
6 and here with great difficulty he had succeeded in catch- 
ing them. I saw that he was unarmed, and asked him 
what he had done with his rifle. It had encumbered him 
in his pursuit, and he had dropped it on the prairie, think- 
ing that he could find it on his return; but in this he had 

10 failed. The loss might prove a very formidable one. 1 
was too much rejoiced, however, at the recovery of the 
animals to think much about it; and having made some 
tea for Raymond in a tin vessel which we had brought 
with us, I told him that I would give him two hours for 

15 resting before we set out again. He had eaten nothing 
that day ; but having no appetite, he lay down immediately 
to sleep. I picketed the animals among the richest grass 
that I could find, and made fires of green wood to protect 
them from the flies; then sitting down again by the tree, 

20 I watched the slow movements of the sun, begrudging 
every moment that passed. 

The time I had mentioned expired, and I awoke Ray- 
mond. We saddled and set out again, but first we went 
in search of the lost rifle, and in the course of an hour 

25 Raymond was fortunate enough to find it. Then we 
turned westward, and moved over the hills and hollows 
at a slow pace toward the Black Hills. The heat no 
longer tormented us, for a cloud was before the sun. Yet 
that day shall never be marked with white in my calendar. 

30 The air began to grow fresh and cool, the distant moun- 
tains frowned more gloomily, there was a low muttering 
of thunder, and dense black masses of cloud rose heavily 
behind the broken peaks. At first they were gayly 
fringed with silver by the afternoon sun; but soon the 

35 thick blackness overspread the whole sky, and the desert 
around us was wrapped in deep gloom. I scarcely heeded 
it at the time, but now I cannot but feel that there was 
an awful sublimity in the hoarse murmuring of the 



Hunting Indians 175 

thunder, in the sombre shadows that involved the moun- 
tains and the plain. The storm broke. It came upon us 
with a zigzag blinding flash, with a terrific crash of 
thunder, and with a hurricane that howled over the prairie, 
dashing floods of water against us. Raymond looked 5 " 
around, and cursed the merciless elements. There seemed 
no shelter near, but we discerned at length a deep ravine 
gashed in the level prairie, and saw half-way down its 
side an old pine tree, whose rough horizontal boughs 
formed a sort of pent-house against the tempest. We 10 
found a practicable passage, and hastily descending, 
fastened our animals to some large loose stones at the 
bottom ; then climbing up, we drew our blankets over our 
heads, and seated ourselves close beneath the old tree. 
Perhaps I was no competent judge of time; but it seemed 15 
to me that we were sitting there a full hour, while around 
us poured a deluge of rain, through which the rocks on 
the oppsite side of the gulf were barely visible. The first 
burst of the tempest soon subsided, but the rain poured 
steadily. At length Raymond grew impatient, and scram- 20 
bling out of the ravine, he gained the level prairie above. 

" What does the weather look like ? " asked I, from my 
seat under the tree. 

" It looks bad," he answered ; " dark all around," and 
again he descended and sat down by my side. Some ten 25 
minutes elapsed. 

" Go up again," said I, " and take another look " ; and 
he clambered up the precipice. " Well, how is it? " 

"Just the same, only I see one little bright spot over 
the top of the mountain." 30 

The rain by this time had begun to abate; and going 
down to the bottom of the ravine, we loosened the ani- 
mals, who were standing up to their knees in water. Lead- 
ing them up the rocky throat of the ravine, we reached 
the plain above. " Am I," I thought to myself, " the same 35 
man who a few months since was seated, a quiet student 
of belles-lettres, in a cushioned arm-chair by a sea-coal 
fire?" 



176 The Oregon Trail 

All around us was obscurity; but the bright spot above 
the mountain-tops grew wider and ruddier, until at length 
the clouds drew apart, and a flood of sunbeams poured 
down from heaven, streaming along the precipices, and 
5 involving them in a thin blue haze, as soft and lovely 
as that which wraps the Apennines on an evening in 
spring. Rapidly the clouds were broken and scattered, like 
routed legions of evil spirits. The plain lay basking in 
sunbeams, around us; a rainbow arched the desert from 

10 north to south, and far in front a line of woods seemed 
inviting us to refreshment and repose. When we reached 
them, they were glistening with prismatic 'dew-drops, and 
enlivened by the songs and flutterings of a hundred birds. 
Strange winged insects, benumbed by the rain, were cling- 

15 ing to the leaves and the bark of the trees. 

Raymond kindled a fire with great difficulty. The 
animals turned eagerly to feed on the soft rich grass, 
while I, wrapping myself in my blanket, lay down and 
gazed on the evening landscape. The mountains, whose 

20 stern features had lowered upon us with so gloomy and 
awful a frown, now seemed lighted up with a serene, 
benignant smile, and the green waving undulations of 
the plain were gladdened with the rich sunshine. Wet, 
ill, and wearied as I was, my spirit grew lighter at the 

25 view, and I drew from it an augury of good for my future 
prospects. 

When morning came, Raymond awoke, coughing vio- 
lently, though I had apparently received no injury. We 
mounted, crossed the little stream, pushed through the 

30 trees, and began our journey over the plain beyond. And 
now, as we rode slowly along, we looked anxiously on 
every hand for traces of the Indians, not doubting that 
the village had passed somewhere in that vicinity; but 
the scanty shrivelled grass Was not more than three or 

35 four inches high, and the ground was of such unyielding 
hardness that a host might have marched over it and left 
scarcely a trace of its passage. Up hill and down hill, 
and clambering through ravines, we continued our jour- 



L 



Hunting Indians 177 

ney. As we were skirting the foot of a hill I saw Ray- 
mond, who was some rods in advance, suddenly jerking 
the reins of his mule. Sliding from his seat, and running 
in a crouching posture up a hollow, he disappeared; and 
then in an instant I heard the sharp quick crack of his 5 
rifle. A wounded antelope came running on three legs over 
the hill. I lashed Pauline and made after him. My fleet 
little mare soon brought me by his side, and after leaping 
and bounding for a few moments in vain, he stood still, as 
if despairing of escape. His glistening eyes turned up 10 
toward my face with so piteous a look that it was with 
feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him through 
the head with a pistol. Raymond skinned and cut him 
up, and we hung the fore-quarters to our saddles, much 
rejoiced that our exhausted stock of provisions was re- 15 
newed in such good time. 

Gaining the top of a hill, we could see along the cloudy 
verge of the prairie before us lines of trees and shadowy 
groves, that marked the course of Laramie Creek. Some 
time before noon we reached its banks, and began 20 
anxiously to search them for footprints of the Indians. 
We followed the stream for several miles, now on the 
shore and now wading in the water, scrutinizing every 
sand-bar and every muddy bank. So long was the search 
that we began to fear that we had left the trail undis- 25 
covered behind us. At length I heard Raymond shout- 
ing, and saw him jump from his mule to examine some 
object under the shelving bank. I rode up to his side. 
It was the clear and palpable impression of an Indian 
moccasin. Encouraged by this, we continued our search, 30 
and at last some appearances on a soft surface of earth 
not far from the shore attracted my eye; and going to 
examine them, I found half a dozen tracks, some made by 
men and some by children. Just then Raymond observed 
across the stream the mouth of a small branch, entering 35 
it from the south. He forded the water, rode in at the 
opening, and in a moment I heard him shouting again; 
so I passed over and joined him. The little branch had a 



178 The Oregon Trail 

broad sandy bed, along which the water trickled in a 
scanty stream; and on either bank the bushes were so 
close that the view was completely intercepted. I found 
Raymond stooping over the footprints of three or four 

5 horses. Proceeding, we found those of a man, then those 
of a child, then those of more horses; and at last the 
bushes on each bank were beaten down and broken, and 
the sand ploughed up with a multitude of footsteps, and 
scored across with the furrows made by the lodge-poles 

10 that had been dragged through. It was now certain that 
we had found the trail. I pushed through the bushes, 
and at a little distance on the prairie beyond found the 
ashes of an hundred and fifty lodge-fires, with bones and 
pieces of buffalo-robes scattered around them, and in 

15 some instances the pickets to which horses had been 
secured still standing in the ground. Elated by our suc- 
cess, we selected a convenient tree, and turning the ani- 
mals loose, prepared to make a meal from the fat haunch 
of our victim. 

20 Hardship and exposure had thriven with me wonder- 
fully. I had gained both health and strength since leaving 
La Bonte's camp. Raymond and I made a hearty meal 
together in high spirits; for we rashly presumed that 
having found one end of the trail we should have little 

25 difficulty in reaching the other. But when the animals 
were led in, we found that our old ill luck had not ceased 
to follow us close. As I was saddling Pauline, I saw that 
her eye was as dull as lead, and the hue of her yellow coat 
visibly darkened. I placed my foot in the stirrup to 

30 mount, when instantly she staggered and fell flat on her 
side. Gaining her feet with an effort, she stood by the 
fire with a drooping head. Whether she had been bitten 
by a snake, or poisoned by some noxious plant, or attacked 
by a sudden disorder, it was hard to say; but at all events 

35 her sickness was sufficiently ill-timed and unfortunate. 
I succeeded in a second attempt to mount her, and with 
a slow pace we moved forward on the trail of the Indians. 
It led us up a hill and over a dreary plain ; and here, to our 



Hunting Indians 179 

great mortification, the traces almost disappeared, for the 
ground was hard as adamant; and if its flinty surface had 
ever retained the dint of a hoof, the marks had been 
washed away by the deluge of yesterday. An Indian vil- 
lage, in its disorderly march, is scattered over the prairie, 5 
often to the width of full half a mile; so that its trail is 
nowhere clearly marked, and the task of following it is 
made doubly wearisome and difficult. By good fortune 
plenty of large ant-hills, a yard or more in diameter, were 
scattered over the plain, and these were frequently broken 10 
by the footprints of men and horses, and marked by 
traces of the lodge-poles. The succulent leaves of the 
prickly-pear, also, bruised from the same causes, helped a 
little to guide us ; so, inch by inch, we moved along. Often 
we lost the trail altogether, and then would recover it 15 
again ; but late in the afternoon we found ourselves totally 
at fault. We stood alone, without a clue to guide us. The 
broken plain expanded for league after league around us, 
and in front the long dark ridge of mountains was stretch- 
ing from north to south. Mount Laramie, a little on our 20 
right, towered high above the rest, and from a dark valley 
just beyond one of its lower declivities we discerned vol- 
umes of white smoke, slowly rolling up into the clear air. 

" I think," said Raymond, " some Indians must be 
there. Perhaps we had better go." But this plan was 25 
not rashly to be adopted, and we determined still to con- 
tinue our search after the lost trail. Our good stars 
prompted us to this decision, for we afterward had reason 
to believe, from information given us by the Indians, that 
the smoke was raised as a decoy by a Crow war-party. 30 

Evening was coming on, and there was no wood or 
water nearer than the foot of the mountains. So thither 
we turned, directing our course toward the point where 
Laramie Creek issues forth upon the prairie. When we 
reached it, the bare tops of the mountains were still 35 
brightened with sunshine. The little river was breaking 
with a vehement and angry current from its dark prison. 
There was something in the near vicinity of the moun- 



i8o The Oregon Trail 

tains, in the loud surging of the rapids, wonderfully cheer- 
ing and exhilarating; for although once as familiar as 
home itself, they had been for months strangers to my 
experience. There was a rich grass-plot by the river's 
5 bank, surrounded by low ridges, which would effectually 
screen ourselves and our fire from the sight of wandering 
Indians. Here, among the grass, I observed numerous 
circles of large stones, which, as Raymond said, were 
traces of a Dahcotah winter encampment. We lay down 

10 and did not awake till the sun was up. A large rock 
projected from the shore, and behind it the deep water was 
slowly eddying round and round. The temptation was 
irresistible. I threw off my clothes, leaped in, suffered 
myself to be borne once round with the current, and then, 

15 seizing the strong root of a water-plant, drew myself to 
the shore. The effect was so invigorating and refreshing 
that I mistook it for returning health. " Pauline," thought 
I, as I led the little mare up to be saddled, " only thrive as 
I do, and you and I will have sport yet among the buffalo 

20 beyond these mountains." But scarcely were we mounted 
and on our way before the momentary glow passed. Again 
I hung as usual in my seat, scarcely able to hold myself 
erect. 

" Look yonder," said Raymond ; " you see that big 

25 hollow there ; the Indians must have gone that way, if they 
went anywhere about here." 

We reached the gap, which was like a deep notch cut 
into the mountain-ridge, and here we soon discerned an 
ant-hill furrowed with the mark of a lodge-pole. This was 

30 quite enough ; there could be no doubt now. As we rode 
on, the opening growing narrower, the Indians had been 
compelled to march in closer order, and the traces became 
numerous and distinct. The gap terminated in a rocky 
gateway, leading into a rough passage upward, between 

35 two precipitous mountains. Here grass and weeds were 
bruised to fragments by the throng that had passed 
through. We moved slowly over the rocks, up the pas- 
sage; and in this toilsome manner we advanced for an 



Hunting Indians i8i 



hour or two, bare precipices, hundreds of feet high, shoot- 
ing up on either hand. Raymond, with his hardy mule, 
was a few rods before me, when we came to the foot of an 
ascent steeper than the rest, and which I trusted might 
prove the highest point of the defile. Pauline strained 5 
upward for a few yards, moaning and stumbling, and 
then came to a dead stop, unable to proceed farther. I 
dismounted and attempted to lead her; but my own 
exhausted strength soon gave out ; so I loosened the trail- 
rope from her neck, and tying it round my arm, crawled 10 
up on my hands and knees. I gained the top, totally 
exhausted, the sweat-drops trickling from my forehead. 
Pauline stood like a statue by my side, her shadow falling 
upon the scorching rock; and in this shade, for there was 
no other, I lay for some time, scarcely able to move a 15 
limb. All around the black crags, sharp as needles at the 
top, stood glowing in the sun, without a tree or a bush or 
a blade of grass to cover their precipitous sides. The 
whole scene seemed parched with a pitiless, insufferable 
heat. 20 

After a while I could mount again, and we moved on, 
descending the rocky defile on its western side. Think- 
ing of that morning's journey, it has sometimes seemed to 
me that there was something ridiculous in my position: a 
man, armed to the teeth, but wholly unable to fight, and 25 
equally so to run away, traversing a dangerous wilderness 
on a sick horse. But these thoughts were retrospective, 
for at the time I was in too grave a mood to entertain a 
very lively sense of the ludicrous. 

Raymond's saddle-girth slipped; and while I proceeded 30 
he was stopping behind to repair the mischief. I came 
to the top of a little declivity, where a most welcome 
sight greeted my eye; a nook of fresh green grass nestled 
among the cliffs, sunny clumps of bushes on one side, 
and shaggy old pine trees leaning forward from the rocks 35 
on the other. A shrill, familiar voice saluted me and 
recalled me to days of boyhood: that of the insect called 
the " locust " by New England school-boys, which was . 



1 82 The Oregon Trail 

fast clinging among the heated boughs of the old pine 
trees. Then, too, as I passed the bushes, the low sound of 
falling water reached my ear. Pauline turned of her 
own accord, and pushing through the boughs, we found 
5 a black rock, overarched by the cool green canopy. An 
icy stream was pouring from its side into a wide basin of 
white sand, from whence it had no visible outlet, but 
filtered through into the soil below. While I filled a tin 
cup at the spring, Pauline was eagerly plunging her head 

10 deep in the pool. Other visitors had been there before 
us. All around in the soft soil were the footprints of elk, 
deer, and the Rocky Mountain sheep; and the grizzly 
bear too had left the recent prints of his broad foot, with 
its frightful array of claws. Among these mountains was 

15 his home. 

Soon after leaving the spring we found a little grassy 
plain, encircled by the mountains, and marked, to our 
great joy, with all the traces of an Indian camp. Ray- 
mond's practised eye detected certain signs, by which he 

20 recognized the spot where Reynal's lodge had been pitched 
and his horses picketed. I approached, and stood looking 
at the place. Reynal and I had, I believe, hardly a feeling 
in common. I disliked the fellow, and it perplexed me 
a good deal to understand why I should look with so much 

25 interest on the ashes of his fire, when between him and 
me there seemed no other bond of sympathy than the 
slender and precarious one of a kindred race. 

In half an hour from this we were clear of the moun- 
tains. There was a plain before us, totally barren and 

30 thickly peopled in many parts with the little prairie-dogs, 
who sat at the mouths of their burrows and yelped at us 
as we passed. The plain, as we thought, was about six 
miles wide; but it cost us two hours to cross it. Then 
another mountain-range rose before us, grander and more 

35 wild than the last had been. Far out of the dense shrub- 
bery that clothed the steeps for a thousand feet shot up 
black crags, all leaning one way, and shattered by storms 
and thunder into grim and threatening shapes. As we 



Hunting Indians 183 

entered a narrow passage on the trail of the Indians, they 
impended frightfully on one side, above our heads. 

Our course was through dense woods, in the shade and 
twinkling sunlight of overhanging boughs. I would I 
could recall to mind all the startling combinations that 5 
presented themselves, as winding from side to side of the 
passage, to avoid its obstructions, we could see, glancing 
at intervals through the foliage, the awful forms of the 
gigantic cliffs, that seemed at times to hem us in on the 
right and on the left, before us and behind ! Another 10 
scene in a few moments greeted us; a tract of gay and 
sunny woods, broken into knolls and hollows, enlivened 
by birds and interspersed with flowers. Among the rest 
I recognized the mellow whistle of the robin, an old 
familiar friend, whom I had scarce expected to meet in 15 
such a place. Bumble-bees too were buzzing heavily 
about the flowers; and of these a species of larkspur 
caught my eye, more appropriate, it should seem, to cul- 
tivated gardens than to a remote wilderness. Instantly it 
recalled a multitude of dormant and delightful recollec- 20 
tions. 

Leaving behind us this spot and its associations, a 
sight soon presented itself, charafcteristic of that warlike 
region. In an open space, fenced in by high rocks, stood 
two Indian forts, of a square form, rudely built of sticks 25 
and logs. They were somewhat ruinous, having probably 
been constructed the year before. Each might have con- 
tained about twenty men. Perhaps in this gloomy spot 
some party had been beset by their enemies, and those 
scowling rocks and blasted trees might not long since 39 
have looked down on a conflict unchronicled and un- 
known. Yet if any traces of bloodshed remained they 
were completely hidden by the bushes and tall rank 
weeds. 

Gradually the mountains drew apart, and the passage 35 
expanded into a plain, where again we found traces of an 
Indian encampment. There were trees and bushes just 
before us, and we stopped here for an hour's rest and 



184 The Oregon Trail 

refreshment. When we had finished our meal, Raymond 
struck fire, and lighting his pipe, sat down at the foot of 
a tree to smoke. For some time I observed him puffing 
away with a face of unusual solemnity. Then, slowly 
5 taking the pipe from his lips, he looked up and remarked 
that we had better not go any farther. 
" Why not ? " asked I. 

He said that the country was becoming very danger- 
ous, that we were entering the range of the Snakes, 

10 Arapahoes, and Gros-ventre Blackfeet, and that if any 
of their wandering parties should meet us, it would cost 
us our lives ; but he added, with a blunt fidelity that nearly 
reconciled me to his stupidity, that he would go anywhere 
I wished. I told him to bring up the animals, and mount- 

15 ing them we proceeded again. I confess that, as we 
moved forward, the prospect seemed but a dreary and 
doubtful one. I would have given the world for my 
ordinary elasticity of body and mind, and for a horse of 
such strength and spirit as the journey required. 

20 Closer and closer the rocks gathered around us, grow- 
ing taller and steeper, and pressing more and more upon 
our path. We entered at length a defile which I never 
have seen rivalled. The mountain was cracked from top 
to bottom, and we were creeping along the bottom of the 

25 fissure, in dampness and gloom, with the clink of hoofs 
on the loose shingly rocks, and the hoarse murmuring of 
a petulant brook which kept us company. Sometimes 
the water, foaming among the stones, overspread the 
whole narrow passage; sometimes, withdrawing to one 

30 side, it gave us room to pass dry-shod. Looking up, we 
could see a narrow ribbon of bright blue sky between 
the dark edges of the opposing cliffs. This did not last 
long. The passage soon widened, and sunbeams found 
their way down, flashing upon the black waters. The 

35 defile would spread out to many rods in width ; bushes, 
trees, and flowers would spring by the side of the brook; 
the cliffs would be feathered with shrubbery that clung 
in every crevice, and fringed with trees that grew along 



Hunting Indians 185 

their sunny edges. Then we would be moving again in 
the darkness. The passage seemed about four miles 
long, and before we reached the end of it the unshod 
hoofs of our animals were lamentably broken, and their 
legs cut by the sharp stones. Issuing from the mountain, 5 
we found another plain. All around it stood a circle of 
lofty precipices, that seemed the impersonation of Silence 
and Solitude. Here again the Indians had encamped, 
as well they might, after passing, with their women, chil- 
dren, and horses, through the gulf behind us. In one day 10 
we had made a journey which had cost them three to 
accomplish. 

The only outlet to this amphitheatre lay over a hill 
some two hundred feet high, up which we moved with 
difficulty. Looking from the top, we saw that at last 15 
we were free of the mountains. The prairie spread before 
us, but so wild and broken that the view was everywhere 
obstructed. Far on our left one tall hill swelled up 
against the sky, on the smooth, pale-green surface of 
which four slowly moving black specks were discernible. 20 
They were evidently buffalo, and we hailed the sight as a 
good augury; for where the buffalo were, there too the 
Indians w^ould probably be found. We hoped on that 
very night to reach the village. We were anxious to do so 
for a double reason, wishing to bring our wearisome 25 
journey to an end, and knowing, moreover, that though 
to enter the village in broad daylight would be a perfectly 
safe experiment, yet to encamp in its vicinity would be 
dangerous. But as we rode on the sun was sinking, and 
soon was within half an hour of the horizon. We ascended 30 
a hill and looked around us for a spot for our encamp- 
ment. The prairie was like a turbulent ocean, suddenly 
congealed when its waves were at the highest, and it lay 
half in light and half in shadow, as the rich sunshine, 
yellow as gold, was pouring over it. The rough bushes 35 
of the wild sage were growing everywhere, its dull pale 
green overspreading hill and hollow. Yet a little way 
before us a bright verdant line of grass was winding along 



1 86 The Oregon Trail 

the plain, and here and there throughout its course was 
glistening darkly. We went down to it, kindled a fire, 
and turned our horses loose to feed. It was a little 
trickling brook, that for some yards on either bank turned 

6 the barren prairie into fertility, and here and there it 
spread into deep pools, where the beaver had dammed 
it up. 

We placed our last remaining piece of the antelope 
before a scanty fire, mournfully reflecting on our ex- 

10 hausted stock of provisions. Just then an enormous gray 
hare, peculiar to these prairies, came jumping along, and 
seated himself within fifty yards to look at us. I thought- 
lessly raised my rifle to shoot him, but Raymond called 
out to me not to fire for fear the report should reach the 

15 ears of the Indians. That night for the first time we 
considered that the danger to which we were exposed was 
of a somewhat serious character; and to those who are 
unacquainted with Indians, it may seem strange that our 
chief apprehensions arose from the supposed proximity 

20 of the people whom we intended to visit. Had any strag- 
gling party of these faithful friends caught sight of us 
from the hill-top, they would probably have returned in 
the night to plunder us of our horses and perhaps of our 
scalps. But we were on the prairie, where the genius loci 

25 is at war with all nervous apprehensions; and I presume 
that neither Raymond nor I thought twice of the matter 
that evening. 

While he was looking after the animals, I sat by the 
fire, engaged in the novel task of baking bread. The 

30 utensils were of the most simple and primitive kind, 
consisting of two sticks inclining over a bed of coals, 
one end thrust into the ground while the dough was 
twisted in a spiral form around the other. Under such 
circumstances all the epicurean in a man's nature is apt 

35 to awaken within him. I revisited in fancy the far- 
distant abodes of good fare, not, indeed, Frascati's or 
the Trois Freres Provenqaux, for that were too extreme 
a flight; but no other than the homely table of my old 



Hunting Indians 187 

friend and host, Tom Crawford, of the White Mountains. 
By a singular revulsion, Tom himself, whom I well re- 
member to have looked upon as the impersonation of all 
that is wild and backwoodsman-like, now appeared before 
me as the ministering angel of comfort and good living. 5 
Being fatigued and drowsy, I began to doze, and my 
thoughts, following the same train of association, assumed 
another form. Half-dreaming, I saw myself surrounded 
with the mountains of New England, alive with water- 
falls, their black crags cinctured with milk-white mists. 10 
For this reverie I paid a speedy penalty; for the bread 
was black on one side and soft on the other. 

For eight hours Raymond and I, pillowed on our sad- 
dles, lay insensible as logs. Pauline's yellow head was 
stretched over me when I awoke. I got up and examined 15 
her. Her feet, indeed, were bruised and swollen by the 
accidents of yesterday, but her eye was brighter, her 
motions livelier, and her mysterious malady had visibly 
abated. We moved on, hoping within an hour to come in 
sight of the Indian village ; but again disappointment 20 
awaited us. The trail disappeared, melting away upon a 
hard and stony plain. Raymond and I separating, rode 
from side to side, scrutinizing every yard of ground, until 
at length I discerned traces of the lodge-poles, passing by 
the side of a ridge of rocks. We began again to follow 25 
them. 

" What is that black spot out there on the prairie ? " 

" It looks like a dead buffalo," answered Raymond. 

We rode out to it, and found it to be the huge carcass 
of a bull killed by the hunters as they had passed. Tan- 30 
gled hair and scraps of hide were scattered all around, 
for the wolves had been making merry over it, and had 
hollowed out the entire carcass. It was covered with 
myriads of large black crickets, and from its appearance 
must certainly have lain there for four or five days. The 35 
sight was a most disheartening one, and I observed to 
Raymond that the Indians might still be fifty or sixty 
miles before us. But he shook his head, and replied that 



1 88 The Oregon Trail 

they dared not go so far for fear of their enemies, the 
Snakes. 

Soon after this we lost the trail again, and descended 
a neighboring ridge, totally at a loss. Before us lay a 
6 plain perfectly flat, spreading on the right and left, with- 
out apparent limit, and bounded in front by a long broken 
line of hills, ten or twelve miles distant. All was open and 
exposed to view, yet not a buffalo or an Indian was 
visible. 

10 " Do you see that ? " said Raymond ; " now we had better 
turn around." 

But as Raymond's bourgeois thought otherwise, we 
descended the hill and began to cross the plain. We had 
come so far that I knew perfectly well neither Pauline's 

15 limbs nor my own could carry me back to Fort Laramie. 
I considered that the lines of expediency and inclination 
tallied exactly, and that the most prudent course was to 
keep forward. The ground immediately around us was 
thickly strewn with skulls and bones of buffalo, for here 

20 a year or two before the Indians had made a " surround " ; 
yet no living game presented itself. At length, however, 
an antelope sprang up and gazed at us. We fired together, 
and by a singular fatality we both missed, although the 
animal stood, a fair mark, within eighty yards. This ill 

25 success might perhaps be charged to our own eagerness, 
for by this time we had no provisions left except a little 
flour. We could discern several small lakes, or rather 
extensive pools of water, glistening in the distance. As 
we approached them, wolves and antelope bounded away 

30 through the tall grass that grew in their vicinity, and 
flocks of large white plover flew screaming over their 
surface. Having failed of the antelope, Raymond tried 
his hand at the birds, with the same ill success. The water 
also disappointed us. Its muddy margin was so beaten up 

35 by the crowd of buffalo that our timorous animals were 
afraid to approach. So we turned away and moved toward 
the hills. The rank grass, where it was not trampled 
down by the buffalo, fairly swept our horses' necks. 



Hunting Indians 189 

Again we found the same execrable barren prairie, 
offering no clue by which to guide our way. As we drew 
near the hills, an opening appeared, through which the 
Indians must have gone if they had passed that way at 
all. Slowly we began to ascend it. I felt the most dreary 5 
forebodings of ill success, when, on looking around, I 
could discover neither dent of hoof nor footprint nor trace 
of lodge-pole, though the passage was encumbered by the 
ghastly skulls of buffalo. We heard thunder muttering; a 
storm was coming on. 10 

As we gained the top of the gap, the prospect beyond 
began to disclose itself. First, we saw a long dark line 
of ragged clouds upon the horizon, while above them rose 
the peak of the Medicine-Bow, the vanguard of the Rocky 
Mountains; then little by little the plain came into view, 15 
a vast green uniformity, forlorn and tenantless, though 
Laramie Creek glistened in a waving line over its surface, 
without a bush or a tree upon its banks. As yet, the round 
projecting shoulder of a hill intercepted a part of the view. 
I rode in advance, when suddenly I could distinguish a 20 
few dark spots on the prairie along the bank of the stream. 

" Buffalo ! " said I. Then a sudden hope flashed upon 
me, and eagerly and anxiously I looked again. 

" Horses ! " exclaimed Raymond, with a tremendous 
oath, lashing his mule forward as he spoke. More and 25 
more of the plain disclosed itself, and in rapid succession 
more and more horses appeared, scattered along the river- 
bank, or feeding in bands over the prairie. Then, sud- 
denly standing in a circle by the stream, swarming with 
their savage inhabitants, we saw rising before us the tall 30 
lodges of the Ogillallah. Never did the heart of wan- 
derer more gladden at the sight of home than did mine at 
the sight of those wild habitations ! 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE OGILLALLAH VILLAGE 

" They waste us — ay — like April snow, 
In the warm noon, we shrink away; 
And fast they follow, as we go 
Towards the setting day." — Bryant. 

Such a narrative as this is hardly the place for portray- 
ing the mental features of the Indians. The same pic- 
ture, slightly changed in shade and coloring, would serve, 
with very few exceptions, for all the tribes that lie north 
5 of the Mexican territories. But with this striking simi- 
larity in their modes of thought, the tribes of the lake 
and ocean shores, of the forests and of the plains, differ 
greatly in their manner of life. Having been domesticated 
for several weeks among one of the wildest of the wild 

10 hordes that roam over the remote prairies, I had extraor- 
dinary opportunities of observing them, and I flatter my- 
self that a faithful picture of the scenes that passed daily 
before my eyes may not be devoid of interest and value. 
These men were thorough savages. Neither their manners 

15 nor their ideas were in the slightest degree modified by 
contact with civilization. They knew nothing of the power 
and real character of the white men, and their children 
would scream in terror at the sight of me. Their religion, 
their superstitions, and their prejudices were the same 

20 that had been handed down to them from immemorial 
time. They fought with the same weapons that their 
fathers had fought with, and wore the same rude garments 
of skins. 

Great changes are at hand in that region. With the 

25 stream of emigration to Oregon and California, the buffalo 
will dwindle away, and the large wandering communities 

190 



The Ogillallah Village 191 

who depend on them for support must be broken and 
scattered. The Indians will soon be corrupted by the 
example of the whites, abased by whiskey, and overawed 
by military posts; so that within a few years the traveller 
may pass in tolerable security through their country on 5 
the Pacific Railroad. Its danger and its charm will have 
disappeared together. 

As soon as Raymond and I discovered the village 
from the gap in the hills, we were seen in our turn ; keen 
eyes were constantly on the watch. As we rode down 10 
upon the plain, the side of the village nearest us was 
darkened with a crowd of naked figures gathering around 
the lodges. Several men came forward to meet us. I 
could distinguish among them the green blanket of the 
Frenchman Reynal. When we came up the ceremony 15 
of shaking hands had to be gone through with in due 
form, and then all were eager to know what had become 
of the rest of my party. I satisfied them on this 
point, and we all moved forward together toward the 
village. 20 

"You've missed it," said Reynal; "if you'd been here 
day before yesterday, you'd have found the whole prairie 
over yonder black with buffalo as far as you could see. 
There were no cows, though; nothing but bulls. We 
made a * surround ' every day till yesterday. See the vil- 25 
lage there ; don't that look like good living ? " 

In fact, I could see, even at that distance, that long 
cords were stretched from lodge to lodge, over which 
the meat, cut by the squaws into thin sheets, was hang- 
ing to dry in the sun. I noticed, too, that the village 30 
was somewhat smalkr than when I had last seen it, and 
I asked Reynal the cause. He said that old Le Borgne 
had felt too weak to pass over the mountains, and so had 
remained behind with all his relations, including Mahto- 
Tatonka and his brothers. The Whirlwind too had been 35 
unwilling to come so far, because, as Reynal said, he was 
afraid. Only half a dozen lodges had adhered to him, 
the main body of the village setting their chief's authority 



192 The Oregon Trail 

at naught, and taking the course most agreeable to their 
inclinations. 

" What chiefs are there in the village now? " said I. 
" Well," said Reynal, " there's old Red- Water, and the 
5 Eagle-Feather, and the Big Crow, and the Mad Wolf, and 
the Panther, and the White-Shield, and — what's his name? 
— the half-breed Shienne." 

By this time we were close to the village, and I ob- 
served that while the greater part of the lodges were 
10 very large and neat in their appearance, there was at 
one side a cluster of squalid, miserable huts. I looked 
toward them, and made some remark about their wretched 
appearance. But I was touching upon delicate ground. 
" My squaw's relations live in those lodges," said Rey- 
15 nal, very warmly, " and there isn't a better set in the 
whole village." 

" Are there any chiefs among them? " I asked. 
" Chiefs? " said Reynal ; " yes, plenty ! " 
" What are their names ? " I inquired. 
20 "Their names? Why, there's the Arrow-Head. If 
he isn't a chief he ought to be one. And there's the Hail- 
Storm. He's nothing but a boy, to be sure; but he's 
bound to be a chief one of these days ! " 

Just then we passed between two of the lodges, and 
25 entered the great area of the village. Superb, naked fig- 
ures stood silently gazing on us. 

" Where's the Bad Wound's lodge ? " said I to Reynal. 
" There you've missed again ! The Bad Wound is 
away with the Whirlwind. If you could have found him 
30 here, and gone to live in his lodge, he would have treated 
you better than any man in the village. But there's the 
Big Crow's lodge yonder, next to old Red- Water's. He's 
a good Indian for the whites, and I advise you to go and 
live with him." 
35 "Are there many squaws and children in his lodge?" 
said I. 

" No ; only one squaw and two or three children. He 
keeps the rest in a separate lodge by themselves." 



The Ogillallah Village 193 

So, still followed by a crowd of Indians, Raymond and 
I rode up to the entrance of the Big Crow's lodge. A 
squaw came out immediately and took our horses. I put 
aside the leather flap that covered the low opening, and 
stooping, entered the Big Crow's dwelling. There I could 5 
see the chief in the dim light, seated at one side, on a 
pile of buffalo-robes. He greated me with a guttural 
" How, cola ! " I requested Reynal to tell him that Ray- 
mond and I were come to live with him. The Big Crow 
gave another low exclamation. H the reader thinks that 10 
we were intruding somewhat cavalierly, I beg him to 
observe that every Indian in the village would have 
deemed himself honored that white men should give such 
preference to his hospitality. 

The squaw spread a buffalo-robe for us in the guest's 15 
place at the head of the lodge. Our saddles were brought 
in, and scarcely were we seated upon them before the 
place was thronged with Indians, who came crowding in 
to see us. The Big Crow produced his pipe and filled it 
with the mixture of tobacco and shoiigsasha, or red willow 20 
bark. Round and round it passed, and a lively conversa- 
tion went forward. Meanwhile a squaw placed before 
the two guests a wooden bowl of boiled buffalo-meat, but, 
unhappily, this was not the only banquet destined to be 
inflicted on us. Rapidly, one after another, boys and 25 
young squaws thrust their heads in at the opening, to 
invite us to various feasts in different parts of the village. 
For half an hour or more we were actively engaged in 
passing from lodge to lodge, tasting in each of the bowls 
of meat set before us, and inhaling a whiff or two from 30 
our entertainer's pipe. A thunder-storm that had been 
threatening for some time now began in good earnest. 
We crossed over to Reynal's lodge, though it hardly 
deserved the name, for it consisted only of a few old 
buffalo-robes supported on poles, and was quite open on 35 
one side. Here we sat down, and the Indians gathered 
around us. 

" What is it," said I, " that makes the thunder? " 



194 The Oregon Trail 

"It's my belief," said Reynal, "that it is a big stone 
rolling over the sky." 

"Very likely," I replied; "but I want to know what 
the Indians think about it." 
5 So he interpreted my question, which seemed to pro- 
duce some doubt and debate. There was evidently a 
difference of opinion. At last old Mene-Seela, or Red- 
Water, who sat by himself at one side, looked up with 
his withered face, and said he had always known what 

10 the thunder was. It was a great black bird ; and once he 

had seen it, in a dream, swooping down from the Black 

Hills, with its loud roaring wings; and when it flapped 

them over a lake, they struck lightning from the water. 

" The thunder is bad," said another old man who sat 

15 muffled in his buffalo-robe ; " he killed my brother last 
summer." 

Reynal, at my request, asked for an explanation; but 
the old man remained doggedly silent, and would not 
look up. Some time after I learned how the accident 

20 occurred. The man who was killed belonged to an asso- 
ciation which, among other mystic functions, claimed 
the exclusive power and privilege of fighting the thunder. 
Whenever a storm which they wished to avert was 
threatening, the thunder fighters would take their bows 

25 and arrows, their guns, their magic drum, and a sort of 
whistle, made out of the wing-bone of the war-eagle. 
Thus equipped, they would run out and fire at the rising 
cloud, whooping, yelling, whistling, and beating their 
drum to frighten it down again. One afternoon a heavy 

30 black cloud was coming up, and they repaired to the top 
of a hill, where they brought all their magic artillery into 
play against it. But the undaunted thunder, refusing 
to be terrified, kept moving straight onward, and darted 
out a bright flash which struck one of the party dead as 

35 he was in the very act of shaking his long iron-pointed 
lance against it. The rest scattered and ran yelling in an 
ecstasy of superstitious terror back to their lodges. 
The lodge of my host, Kongra Tonga, or the Big Crow, 



The Ogillallah Village 195 

presented a picturesque spectacle that evening. A score 
or more Indians were seated around it in a circle, their 
dark naked forms just visible by the dull light of the 
smouldering fire in the centre. The pipe glowed brightly 
in the gloom as it passed from hand to hand around the 5 
lodge. Then a squaw would drop a piece of buffalo-fat 
on the dull embers. Instantly a bright glancing flame 
would leap up, darting its clear light to the very apex of 
the tall conical structure, where the tops of the slender 
poles that supported its covering of leather were gathered 10 
together. It gilded the features of the Indians, as with 
animated gestures they sat around it, telling their end- 
less stories of war and hunting. It displayed rude gar- 
ments of skins that hung around the lodge; the bow, 
quiver, and lance, suspended over the resting-place of the 15 
chief, and the rifles and powder-horns of the two white 
guests. For a moment all would be bright as day; then 
the flames would die away, and fitful flashes from the 
embers would illumine the lodge, and then leave it in 
darkness. Then all the light would wholly fade, and the 20 
lodge and all within it be involved again in obscurity. 

As I left the lodge next morning, I was saluted by 
howling and yelping from all around the village, and half 
its canine population rushed forth to the attack. Being 
as cowardly as they were clamorous, they kept jumping 25 
around me at the distance of a few yards, only one little 
cur, about ten inches long, having spirit enough to make 
a direct assault He dashed valiantly at the leather tas- 
sel which in the Dahcotah fashion was trailing behind 
the heel of my moccasin, and kept his hold, growling and 30 
snarling all the while, though every step I made almost 
jerked him over on his back. As I knew that the eyes of 
the whole village were on the watch to see if I showed 
any sign of aprehension, I walked forward without look- 
ing to the right or left, surrounded wherever I went by 35 
this magic circle of dogs. When I came to Reynal's lodge 
I sat down by it, on which the dogs dispersed growling to 
their respective quarters. Only one large white one 



196 The Oregon Trail 

remained, who kept running about before me and show- 
ing his teeth. I called him, but he only growled the 
more. I looked at him well. He was fat and sleek, just 
such a dog as I wanted. " My friend," thought I, " you 
5 shall pay for this ! I will have you eaten this very 
morning ! " 

I intended that day to give the Indians a feast by 
way of conveying a favorable impression of my character 
and dignity; and a white dog is the dish which the cus- 

10 toms of the Dahcotah prescribe for all occasions of for- 
mality and importance. I consulted Reynal; he soon 
discovered that an old woman in the next lodge was 
owner of the white dog. I took a gaudy cotton handker- 
chief, and laying it on the ground, arranged some ver- 

15 milion, beads, and other trinkets upon it. Then the old 
squaw was summoned. I pointed to the dog and to the 
handkerchief. She gave a scream of delight, snatched 
up the prize, and vanished with it into her lodge. For a 
few more trifles I engaged the services of two other 

20 squaws, each of whom took the white dog by one of his 
paws, and led him away behind the lodges, while he kept 
looking up at them with a face of innocent surprise. 
Having killed him they threw him into a fire to singe; 
then chopped him up and put him into two large kettles to 

25 boil. Meanwhile I told Raymond to fry in buffalo-fat 
what little flour we had left, and also to make a kettle of 
tea as an additional item of the repast. 

The Big Crow's squaw was briskly at work sweeping 
out the lodge for the approaching festivity. I confided 

30 to my host himself the task of inviting the guests, think- 
ing that I might thereby shift from my own shoulders the 
odium of fancied neglect and oversight. 

When feasting is in question, one hour of the day 
serves an Indian as well as another. My entertainment 

35 came off about eleven o'clock. At that hour, Reynal 
and Raymond walked across the area of the village, to 
the admiration of the inhabitants, carrying the two 
kettles of dog-meat slung on a pole between them. These 



The Ogillallah Village 197 

they placed in the centre of the lodge, and then went 
back for the bread and the tea. Meanwhile I had put 
on a pair of brilliant moccasions, and substituted for my 
old buckskin frock a coat which I had brought with me 
in view of such public occasions. I also made careful use 5 
of the razor, an operation which no man will neglect 
who desires to gain the good opinion of Indians. Thus 
attired, I seated myself between Reynal and Raymond 
at the head of the lodge. Only a few minutes elapsed 
before all the guests had come in and were seated on the 10 
ground wedged together in a close circle around the 
lodge. Each brought with him a wooden bowl to hold 
his share of the repast. When all were assembled, two 
of the officials, called " soldiers " by the white men, came 
forward with ladles made of the horn of the Rocky Moun- 15 
tain sheep, and began to distribute the feast, always as- 
signing a double share to the old men and chiefs. The 
dog vanished with astonishing celerity, and each guest 
turned his dish bottom upward to show that all was gone. 
Then the bread was distributed in its turn, and finally 20 
the tea. As the soldiers poured it out into the same 
wooden bowls that had served for the substantial part 
of the meal, I thought it had a particularly curious and 
uninviting color. 

" Oh ! " said Reynal, " there was not enough tea, 25 
so I stirred some soot in the kettle, to make it look 
strong." 

Fortunately an Indian's palate is not very discriminat- 
ing. The tea was well sweetened, and that was all they 
cared for. 30 

Now, the former part of the entertainment being con- 
cluded, the time for speech-making was come. The Big 
Crow produced a flat piece of wood on which he cut up 
tobacco and shongsasha, and mixed them in due propor- 
tions. The pipes were filled and passed from hand to hand 35 
around the company. Then I began my speech, each sen- 
tence being interpreted by Reynal as I went on, and 
echoed by the whole audience with the usual exclamations 



198 The Oregon Trail 

of assent and approval. As nearly as I can recollect, it 
was as follows: 

" I had come," I told them, " from a country so far dis- 
tant, that at the rate they travel, they could not reach 
5 it in a year." 

" How ! how ! " 

*' There the Meneaska were more numerous than the 
blades of grass on the prairie. The squaws were far more 
beautiful than any they had ever seen, and all the men 
10 were brave warriors." 

" How ! how ! how ! " 

Here I was assailed by sharp twinges of conscience, 
for I fancied I could perceive a fragrance of perfumery 
in the air, and a vision rose before me of white-kid gloves 
15 and silken moustaches with the mild and gentle counte- 
nances of numerous fair-haired young men. But I re- 
covered myself and began again. 

" While I was living in the Meneaska lodges, I had 
heard of the Ogillallah, how great and brave a nation 
20 they were, how they loved the whites, and how well 
they could hunt the buffalo and strike their enemies. 
I resolved to come and see if all that I heard was 
true.' 

" How ! how ! how ! how ! " 
25 " As I had come on horseback through the mountains, 
I had been able to bring them only a very few presents." 

" How ! " 

" But I had enough tobacco to give them all a small 

piece. They might smoke it, and see how much better 

30 it was than the tobacco which they got from the traders." 

" How ! how ! how ! " 

" I had plenty of powder, lead, knives, and tobacco at 
Fort Laramie. These I was anxious to give them, and 
if any of them should come to the fort before I went 
35 away, I would make them handsome presents." 

" How ! how ! how ! how ! " 

Raymond then cut up and distributed among them 
two or three pounds of tobacco, and old Mene-Seela began 



The Ogillallah Village 199 

to make a reply. It was quite long, but the following was 
the pith of it: 

" He had always loved the whites. They were the 
wisest people on earth. He believed they could do every- 
thing, and he was always glad when any of them came to 5 
live in the Ogillallah lodges. It was true I had not made 
them many presents, but the reason of it was plain. It 
was clear that I liked them, or I never should have come 
so far to find their village." 

Several other speeches of similar import followed, and 10 
then this more serious matter being disposed of, there 
was an interval of smoking, laughing, and conversation; 
but old Mene-Seela suddenly interrupted it with a loud 
voice : 

" Now is a good time," he said, " when all the old men 15 
and chiefs are here together, to decide what the people 
shall do.. We came over the mountain to make our 
lodges for next year. Our old ones are good for nothing; 
they are rotten and worn out. But we have been disap- 
pointed. We have killed buffalo-bulls enough, but we 20 
have found no herds of cows, and the skins of bulls are 
too thick and heavy for our squaws to make lodges of. 
There must be plenty of cows about the Medicine-Bow 
Mountain. We ought to go there. To be sure it is 
farther westward than we have ever been before, and 25 
perhaps the Snakes will attack us, for those hunting- 
grounds belong to them. But we must have new lodges at 
any rate ; our old ones will not serve for another year. 
We ought not to be afraid of the Snakes. Our warriors 
are brave, and they are all ready for war. Besides, we 30 
have three white men with their rifles to help us." 

I could not help thinking that the old man relied a 
little too much on the aid of allies, one of whom was a 
coward, another a blockhead, and the third an invalid. 
This speech produced a good deal of debate. As Reynal 35 
did not interpret what was said, I could only judge of the 
xneaning by the features and gestures of the speakers. 
At the end of it, however, the greater number seemed to 



200 The Oregon Trail 

have fallen in with Mene-Seela's opinion. A short silence 
followed, and then the old man struck up a discordant 
chant, which I was told was a song of thanks for the 
entertainment I had given them. 

5 " Now," said he, " let us go and give the white men a 
chance to breathe." 

So the company all dispersed into the open air, and 
for some time the old chief was walking around the 
village, singing his song in praise of the feast, after the 

10 usual custom of the nation. 

At last the day drew to a close, and as the sun went 
down the horses came trooping from the surrounding 
plains to be picketed before the dwellings of their respec- 
tive masters. Soon within the great circle of lodges 

15 appeared another concentric circle of restless horses; and 
here and there fires were glowing and flickering amid the 
gloom, on the dusky figures around them. I went over and 
sat by the lodge of Reynal. The Eagle-Feather, who was 
a son of Mene-Seela, and brother of my host the Big 

20 Crow, was seated there already, and I asked him if the 
village would move in the morning. He shook his head 
and said that nobody could tell, for since old Mahto- 
Tatonka had died, the people had been like children that 
did not know their own minds. They were no better 

25 than a body without a head. So I, as well as the Indians 
themselves, fell asleep that night without knowing whether 
we should set out in the morning toward the country of 
the Snakes. 

At daybreak, however, as I was coming up from the 

30 river after my morning's ablutions, I saw that a move- 
ment was contemplated. Some of the lodges were reduced 
to nothing but bare skeletons of poles; the leather cover- 
ing of others was flapping in the wind as the squaws were 
pulling it off. One or two chiefs of note had resolved, it 

35 seemed, on moving; and so having set their squaws at 
work, the example was tacitly followed by the rest of the 
village. One by one the lodges were sinking down in 
rapid succession, and where the great circle of the village 



The Ogillallah Village 201 

had been only a moment before, nothing now remained 
but a ring of horses and Indians, crowded in confusion 
together. The ruins of the lodges were spread over the 
ground, together with kettles, stone mallets, great ladles 
of horn, buffalo-robes, and cases of painted hides, filled 5 
with dried meat. Squaws bustled about in their busy 
preparations, the old hags screaming to one another at 
the stretch of their leathern lungs. The shaggy horses 
were patiently standing while the lodge-poles were lashed 
to their sides, and the baggage piled upon their backs. 10 
The dogs, with their tongues lolling out, lay lazily pant- 
ing and waiting for the time of departure. Each warrior 
sat on the ground by the decaying embers of his fire, 
unmoved amid all the confusion, while he held in his hand 
the long trail-rope of his horse. 15 

As their preparations were completed, each family 
moved off the ground. The crowd was rapidly melting 
away. I could see them crossing the river, and passing in 
quick succession along the profile of the hill on the farther 
bank. When all were gone, I mounted and set out after 20 
them, followed by Raymond, and as we gained the sum- 
mit, the whole village came in view at once, straggling 
away for a mile or more over the barren plains before 
us. Everywhere the iron points of lances were glittering. 
The sun never shone upon a more strange array. Here 25 
were the heavy-laden pack-horses, some wretched old 
women leading them, and two or three children clinging 
to their backs. Here were mules or ponies covered from 
head to tail with gaudy trappings, and mounted by some 
gay young squaw, grinning bashfulness and pleasure as the 30 
Meneaska looked at her. Boys with miniature bows and 
arrows were wandering over the plains, little naked chil- 
dren were running along on foot, and numberless dogs 
were scampering among the feet of the horses. The 
young braves, gaudy with paint and feathers, were riding 35 
in groups among the crowd, and often galloping, two or 
three at once along the line, to try the speed of their 
horses. Here and there you might see a rank of sturdy 



202 The Oregon Trail 

pedestrians stalking along in their white buffalo-robes. 
These were the dignitaries of the village, the old men and 
warriors, to whose age and experience that wandering 
democracy yielded a silent deference. With the rough 
5 prairie and the broken hills for its background, the rest- 
less scene was striking and picturesque beyond description. 
Days and weeks made me familiar with it, but never 
impaired its effect upon my fancy. 

As we moved on, the broken column grew yet more 

10 scattered and disorderly, until, as we approached the 
foot of a hill, I saw the old men before mentioned seating 
themselves in a line upon the ground, in advance of the 
whole. They lighted a pipe and sat smoking, laughing, 
and telling stories, while the people, stopping as they 

15 successively came up, were soon gathered in a crowd 
behind them. Then the old men rose, drew their buffalo- 
"robes over their shoulders, and strode on as before. Gain- 
ing the top of the hill, we found a very steep declivity 
before us. There was not a minute's pause. The whole 

20 descended in a mass, amid dust and confusion. The horses 
braced their feet as they slid down, women and children 
were screaming, dogs yelping as they were trodden upon, 
while stones and earth went rolling to the bottom. In a 
few moments I could see the village from the summit, 

25 spreading again far and wide over the plain below. 

At our encampment that afternoon I was attacked 
anew by my old disorder. In half an hour the strength 
that I had been gaining for a week past had vanished 
again, and I became like a man in a dream. But at sun- 

30 set I lay down in the Big Crow's lodge and slept, totally 
unconscious till the morning. The first thing that awak- 
ened me was a hoarse flapping over my head, and a sudden 
light poured in upon me. The camp was breaking up, 
and the squaws were moving the covering from the lodge. 

35 I arose and shook off my blanket with the feeling of 
perfect health; but scarcely had I gained my feet when 
a sense of my helpless condition was once more forced 
upon me, and I found myself scarcely able to stand. 



The Ogillallah Village 203 

Raymond had brought up Pauline and the mule, and I 
stooped to raise my saddle from the ground. My strength 
was quite inadequate to the task. " You must saddle 
her," said I to Raymond, as I sat down again on a pile 
of buffalo-robes: . 5 

"Et haec etiam fortasse meminisse juvabit," 

I thought, while with a painful effort I raised myself into 
the saddle. Half an hour after, even the expectation 10 
that Virgil's line expressed seemed destined to disappoint- 
ment. As we were passing over a great plain, sur- 
rounded by long broken ridges, I rode slowly in advance 
of the Indians, with thoughts that wandered far from 
the time and from the place. Suddenly the sky darkened, 15 
and thunder began to mutter. Clouds were rising over 
the hills, as dreary and dull as the first forebodings of an 
approaching calamity; and in a moment all around was 
wrapped in shadow. I looked behind. The Indians had 
stopped to prepare for the approaching storm, and the 20 
dark, dense mass of savages stretched far to the right and 
left. Since the first attack of my disorder the effects of 
rain upon me had usually been injurious in the extreme. 
I had no strength to spare, having at that moment scarcely 
enough to keep my seat on horseback. Then, for the first 25 
time, it pressed upon me as a strong probability that I 
might never leave those deserts. " Well," thought I to 
myself, " a prairie makes quick and sharp work. Better 
to die here in the saddle to the last, than to stifle in the 
hot air of a sick chamber; and a thousand times better 30 
than to drag out life, as many have done, in the helpless 
inaction of lingering disease." So, drawing the buffalo- 
robe on which I sat over my head, I waited till the storm 
should come. It broke at last with a sudden burst of fury, 
and, passing away as rapidly as it came, left the sky clear 35 
again. My reflections served me no other purpose than 
to look back upon a piece of curious experience; for the 
rain did not produce the ill effects I had expected. We 



204 The Oregon Trail 



encamped within an hour. Having no change of clothes, 
I contrived to borrow a curious kind of substitute from 
Reynal; and this done, I went home, that is, to the Big 
Crow's lodge, to make an entire transfer that was neces- 
5 sary. Half a dozen squaws were in the lodge, and one of 
them taking my arm held it against her own, while a 
general laugh and scream of admiration was raised at the 
contrast in the color of the skin. 

Our encampment that afternoon was not far distant 

10 from a spur of the Black Hills, whose ridges, bristling 
with fir trees, rose from the plains a mile or two on our 
right. That they might move rapidly toward their pro- 
posed hunting-grounds, the Indians determined to leave 
at this place their stock of dried meat and other super- 

15 fluous articles. Some left even their lodges, and contented 
themselves with carrying a few hides to make a shelter 
from the sun and rain. Half the inhabitants set out in the 
afternoon, with loaded pack-horses, toward the mountains. 
Here they suspended the dried meat upon trees, where the 

20 wolves and grizzly bears could not get at it. All returned 
at evening. Some of the young men declared that they 
had heard the reports of guns among the mountains to 
the eastward, and many surmises were thrown out as to 
the origin of these sounds. For my part, I was in hopes 

25 that Shaw and Henry Chatillon were coming to join us. 
I would have welcomed them cordially, for I had no other 
companions than two brutish white men and five hundred 
savages. I little suspected that at that moment my unjucky 
comrade was lying on a bufTalo-robe at Fort Laramie, 

30 fevered with ivy poison, and solacing his woes with to- 

' bacco and Shakespeare. 

As we moved over the plains on the next morning, 

. several young men were riding about the country as 

scouts; and at length we began to see them occasionally 

35 on the tops of hills, shaking their robes as a signal that 
they saw bufifalo. Soon after some bulls came in sight. 
Horsemen darted away in pursuit, and we could see from 
the distance that one or two of the bufYalo were killed. 



The Ogillallah Village 205 

Raymond suddenly became inspired. I looked at him as he 
rode by my side; his face had actually grown in- 
telligent ! 

" This is the country for me ! " he said ; " if I could only 
carry the buffalo that are killed here every month down 5 
to St. Louis, I'd make my fortune in one winter. I'd 
grow as rich as old Papin, or Mackenzie either. I call 
this the poor man's market. When I'm hungry, I have 
only got to take my rifle and go out and get better meat 
than the rich folks down below can get with all their 10 
money. You won't catch me living in St. Louis another 
winter." 

" No," said Reynal, " you had better say that, after 
you and your Spanish woman almost starved to death 
there. What a fool you were ever to take her to the 15 
settlements." 

"Your Spanish woman?" said I; "I never heard of 
her before. Are you married to her?" 

" No," answered Raymond, again looking intelligent ; 
" the priests don't marry their women, and why should 20 
I marry mine? " 

This honorable mention of the Mexican clergy intro- 
duced the subject of religion, and I found that my two 
associates, in common with other white men in the coun- 
try, were as indifferent to their future welfare as men 25 
whose lives are in constant peril are apt to be. Raymond 
had never heard of the Pope. A certain bishop, who 
lived at Taos or at Santa Fe, embodied his loftiest idea 
of an ecclesiastical dignitary. Reynal observed that a 
priest had been at Fort Laramie two years ago, on his 30 
way to the Nez Perce Mission, and that he had confessed 
all the men there, and given them absolution. " I got a 
good clearing out myself, that time," said Reynal, " and I 
reckon that will do for me till I go down to the settlements 
again." 35 

Here he interrupted himself with an oath, and ex- 
claimed : " Look ! look ! The ' Panther ' is running an 
antelope ! " 



2o6 The Oregon Trail 

The Panther, on his black-and-white horse, one of the 
best in the village, came at full speed over the hill in hot 
pursuit of an antelope, that darted away like lightning 
before him. The attempt was made in mere sport and 
5 bravado, for very few are the horses that can for a 
moment compete in swiftness with this little animal. The 
antelope ran down the hill toward the main body of the 
Indians, who were moving over the plain below. Sharp 
yells were given, and horsemen galloped out to intercept 

10 his flight. At this he turned sharply to the left, and 
scoured away with such incredible speed that he dis- 
tanced all his pursuers, and even the vaunted horse of 
the Panther himself. A few moments after, we witnessed 
a more serious sport. A shaggy buffalo-bull bounded 

15 out from a neighboring hollow, and close behind him 
came a slender Indian boy, riding without stirrups or 
saddle, and lashing his eager little horse to full speed. 
Yard after yard he drew closer to his gigantic victim, 
though the bull, with his short tail erect and his tongue 

20 lolling out a foot from his foaming jaws, was straining 
his unwieldy strength to the utmost. A moment more, 
and the boy was close alongside of him. It was our friend 
the Hail-Storm. He dropped the rein on his horse's neck 
and jerked an arrow like lightning from the quiver at his 

25 shoulder. 

" I tell you," said Reynal, " that in a year's time that 
boy will match the best hunter in the village. There, he 
has given it to him ! — and there goes another ! You feel 
well, now, old bull, don't you, with two arrows stuck in 

30 your lights? There, he has given him another! Hear 
how the Hail-Storm yells when he shoots ! Yes, jump at 
him; try it again, old fellow! You may jump all day 
before you get your horns into that pony ! " 

The bull sprang again and again at his assailant, but 

35 the horse kept dodging with wonderful celerity. At length 
the bull followed up his attack with a furious rush, and the 
Hail-Storm was put to flight, the shaggy monster follow- 
ing close behind. The boy clung to his seat like a leech, 



The Ogillallah Village 207 

and secure in the speed of his little pony, looked around 
toward us and laughed. In a moment he was again along- 
side of the bull, who was now driven to complete despera- 
tion. His eyeballs glared through his tangled mane, and 
the blood flew from his mouth and nostrils. Thus, still 5 
battling with each other, the two enemies disappeared over 
the hill. 

Many of the Indians rode at full gallop toward the spot. 
We followed at a more moderate pace, and soon saw 
the bull lying dead on the side of the hill. The Indians 10 
were gathered around him, and several knives were al- 
ready at work. These little instruments were plied with 
such wonderful address that the twisted sinews were cut 
apart, the ponderous bones fell asunder as if by magic, 
and in a moment the vast carcass was reduced to a heap 15 
of bloody ruins. The surrounding group of savages 
offered no very attractive spectacle to a civilized eye. 
Some were cracking the hugh thigh-bones and devour- 
ing the marrow within; others were cutting away pieces 
of the liver and other approvel morsels, and swallowing 20 
them on the spot with the appetite of wolves. The faces 
of most of them, besmeared with blood from ear to ear, 
looked grim and horrible enough. My friend, the White 
Shield, proffered me a marrow-bone, so skilfully laid 
open that all the rich substance within was exposed to 25 
view at once. Another Indian held out a large piece of 
the delicate lining of the paunch, but these courteous 
offerings I begged leave to decline. I noticed one little 
boy who was very busy with his knife about the jaws and 
throat of the buffalo, from which he extracted some 30 
morsel of peculiar delicacy. It is but fair to say that only 
certain parts of the animal are considered eligible in these 
extempore banquets. The Indians would look with ab- 
horrence on any one who should partake indiscriminately 
of the newly-killed carcass. 35 

We encamped that night, and marched westward 
through the greater part of the following day. On the 
next morning we again resumed our journey. It was the 



2o8 The Oregon Trail 

seventeenth of July, unless my note-book misleads me. 
At noon we stopped by some pools of rain-water, and 
in the afternoon again set forward. This double move- 
ment was contrary to the usual practice of the Indians, 
5 but all were very anxious to reach the hunting-ground, 
kill the necessary number of buffalo, and retreat as soon 
as possible from the dangerous neighborhood. I pass by 
for the present some curious incidents that occurred dur- 
ing these marches and encampments. Late in the after- 

10 noon of the last-mentioned day we came upon the banks 
of a little sandy stream, of which the Indians could 
not tell the name; for they were very ill acquainted with 
that part of the country. So parched and arid were the 
prairies around that they could not supply grass enough 

15 for the horses to feed upon, and we were compelled to 
move farther and farther up the stream in search of 
ground for encampment. The country was much wilder 
than before. The plains were gashed with ravines and 
broken into hollows and steep declivities, which flanked 

20 our course, as, in long scattered array, the Indians ad- 
vanced up the side of the stream. Mene-Seela consulted 
an extraordinary oracle to instruct him where the buffalo 
were to be found. When he with the other chiefs sat 
down on the grass to smoke and converse, as they often 

25 did during the march, the old man picked up one of those 
enormous black and green crickets, which the Dahcotah 
call by the name that signifies " They who point out the 
buffalo." The " Root-Diggers," a wretched tribe beyond 
the mountains, turn them to good account by making 

30 them into a sort of soup, pronounced by certain unscrupu- 
lous trappers to be extremely rich. Holding the bloated 
insect respectfully between his fingers and thumb, the old 
Indian looked attentively at him and inquired, " Tell me, 
my father, where must we go to-morrow to find the 

35 buffalo?" The cricket twisted about his long horns in 
evident embarrassment. At last he pointed, or seemed to 
point, them westward. Mene-Seela, dropping him gently 
on the grass, laughed with great glee, and said that if we 



The Ogillallah Village 209 

went that way in the morning we should be sure to kill 
plenty of game. 

Toward evening we came upon a fresh green meadow, 
traversed by the stream, and deep-set among tall sterile 
bluffs. The Indians descended its steep banks; and as I 5 
was at the rear, I was one of the last to reach this point. 
Lances were glittering, feathers fluttering, and the water be- 
low me was crowded with men and horses passing through, 
while the meadow beyond was swarming with the restless 
crowd of Indians. The sun was just setting, and poured 10 
its softened light upon them through an opening in the hills. 

I remarked to Reynal that at last we had found a good 
camping-ground. 

" Oh, it is very good," replied he, ironically, " especially 
if there is a Snake war-party about, and they take it into 15 
their heads to shoot down at us from the top of these 
hills. It's no plan of mine, camping in such a hole as this ! " 

The Indians also seemed apprehensive. High up on 
the top of the tallest bluff, conspicuous in the bright 
evening sunlight, sat a naked warrior on horseback, look- 20 
ing around, as it seemed, over the neighboring country; 
and Raymond told me that many of the young men had 
gone out in different directions as scouts. 

The shadows had reached to the very summit of the 
bluffs before the lodges were erected and the village 25 
reduced to quiet and order. A cry was suddenly raised, 
and men, women, and children came running out with 
animated faces, and looked eagerly through the opening 
on the hills by which the stream entered from the west- 
ward. I could discern afar off some dark, heavy masses, 30 
passing over the sides of a low hill. They disappeared, 
and then others followed. These were bands of buffalo- 
cows. The hunting-ground was reached at last, and 
everything promised well for the morrow's sport. Being 
fatigued and exhausted, I went and lay down in Kongra- 35 
Tonga's lodge, when Raymond thrust in his head and 
called upon me to come and see some sport. A number 
of Indians were gathered, laughing, along the line of 



2IO The Oregon Trail 

lodges on the western side of the village, and at some 
distance I could plainly see in the twilight two huge 
black monsters stalking, heavily and solemnly, directly 
toward us. They were buffalo-bulls. The wind blew from 
5 them to the village, and such was their blindness and 
stupidity that they were advancing upon the enemy with- 
out the least consciousness of his presence. Raymond 
told me that two young men had hidden themselves with 
guns in a ravine about twenty yards in front of us. The 

10 two bulls walked slowly on, heavily swinging from side 
to side in their peculiar gait of stupid dignity. They 
approached within four or five rods of the ravine where 
the Indians lay in ambush. Here at last they seemed 
conscious that something was wrong, for they both stopped 

15 and stood perfectly still, without looking either to the 
right or to the left. Nothing of them was to be seen but 
two huge black masses of shaggy mane, with horns, eyes, 
and nose in the centre, and a pair of hoofs visible at the 
bottom. At last the more intelligent of them seemed 

20 to have concluded that it was time to retire. Very slowly, 
and with an air of the gravest and most majestic delibera- 
tion, he began to turn round, as if he were revolving on a 
pivot. Little by little his ugly brown side was exposed to 
view. A white smoke sprang out, as it were, from the 

25 ground ; a sharp report came with it. The old bull gave a 
very undignified jump and galloped off. At this his com- 
rade wheeled about with considerable expedition. The 
other Indian shot at him from the ravine, and then both 
the bulls were running away at full speed, while half the 

30 juvenile population of the village raised a yell and ran 
after them. The first bull soon stopped, and while the 
crowd stood looking at him at a respectful distance, he 
reeled and rolled over on his side. The other, wounded 
in a less vital part, galloped away to the hills and escaped. 

35 In half an hour it was totally dark. I lay down to 
sleep, and ill as I was. there was something very animat- 
ing in the prospect of the general hunt that was to take 
place on the morrow. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE HUNTING CAMP 

" The Perse owt of Northamberlande, 
And a vowe to God mayde he, 
That he wolde hunte in the mountayns 

Off Chyviat within dayes thre, 

In the mauger of doughte Dogles, 

And all that ever with him be." 

Chevy Chase. 

Long before daybreak the Indians broke up their camp. 
The v^romen of Mene-Seela's lodge were, as usual, among 
the first that were ready for departure, and I found the 
old man himself sitting by the embers of the decayed 
fire, over which he was warming his withered fingers, 5 
as the morning was very chilly and damp. The prepara- 
tions for moving were even more confused and disorderly 
than usual. While some families were leaving the ground, 
the lodges of others were still standing untouched. At 
this, old Mene-Seela grew impatient, and walking out to 10 
the middle of the village stood with his robe wrapped 
close around him, and harangue^ the people in a loud, 
sharp voice. Now, he said, when they were on an enemy's 
hunting-grounds, was not the time to behave like children ; 
they ought to be more active and united than ever. His 15 
speech had some efifect. The delinquents took down their 
lodges and loaded their pack-horses; and when the sun 
rose, the last of the men, women, and children had left 
the deserted camp. 

This movement was made merely for the purpose of 20 
finding a better and safer position. So we advanced 
only three or four miles up the little stream, before each 
family assumed its relative place in the great ring of the 
village, and all around the squaws were actively at work 

211 



212 The Oregon Trail 



t> 



in preparing the camp. But not a single warrior dis- 
mounted from his horse. All the men that morning were 
mounted on inferior animals, leading their best horses 
by a cord, or confiding them to the care of boys. In 
5 small parties they began to leave the ground and ride 
rapidly away over the plains to the westward. I had 
taken no food that morning, and not being at all ambi- 
tious of farther abstinence, I went into my host's lodge, 
which his squaws had erected with wonderful celerity, 

10 and sat down in the centre, as a gentle hint that I was 
hungry. A wooden bowl was soon set before me, filled 
with the nutritous preparation of dried meat, called 
pemmican by the northern voyagers, and wasna by the 
Dahcotah. Taking a handful to break my fast upon, I 

15 left the lodge just in time to see the last band of hunters 
disappear over the ridge of the neighboring hill. I 
mounted Pauline and galloped in pursuit, riding rather 
by the balance than by any muscular strength that re- 
mained to me. From the top of the hill I could overlook 

20 a wide extent of desolate and unbroken prairie, over 
which, far and near, little parties of naked horsemen 
were rapidly passing. I soon came up to the nearest, and 
we had not ridden a mile before all were united into one 
large and compact body. All was haste and eagerness. 

25 Each hunter was whipping on his horse, as if anxious to be 
the first to reach the game. In such movements among 
the Indians this is always more or less the case; but it 
was especially so in the present instance, because the 
head chief of the village was absent, and there were but 

30 few " soldiers," a sort of Indian police, who among their 
other functions usually assume the direction of a buffalo- 
hunt. No man turned to the right hand or to the left. 
We rode at a swift canter straight forward, up hill and 
down hill, and through the stiff, obstinate growth of the 

35 endless wild-sage bushes. For an hour and a half the 
same red shoulders, the same long black hair rose and 
fell with the motion of the horses before me. Very little 
was said, though once I observed an old man severely 



The Hunting Camp 213 



reproving Raymond for having left his rifle behind him, 
when there was some probability of encountering an 
enemy before the day was over. As we galloped across 
a plain thickly set with sage bushes, the foremost riders 
vanished suddenly from sight, as if diving into the earth. 5 
The arid soil was cracked into a deep ravine. Down we 
all went in succession and galloped in a line along the 
bottom, until we found a point where, one by one, the 
horses could scramble out. Soon after, we came upon a 
wide shallow stream, and as we rode swiftly over the 10 
hard sand-beds and through the thin sheets of rippling 
water, many of the savage horsemen threw themselves 
to the ground, knelt on the sand, snatched a hasty draught, 
and leaping back again to their seats, galloped on again 
as before. 15 

Meanwhile scouts kept in advance of the party; and 
now we began to see them on the ridge of the hills, wav- 
ing their robes in token that buffalo were visible. These, 
however, proved to be nothing more than old straggling 
bulls, feeding upon the neighboring plains, who would 20 
stare for a moment at the hostile array and then gallop 
clumsily off. At length we could discern several of these 
scouts making their signals to us at once; no longer 
waving their robes boldly from the top of the hill, but 
standing lower down, so that they could not be seen from 25 
the plains beyond. Game worth pursuing had evidently . 
been discovered. The excited Indians now urged for- 
ward their tired horses even more rapidly than before. 
Pauline, who was still sick and jaded, began to groan 
heavily ; and her yellow sides were darkened with sweat. 30 
As we were crowding together over a lower intervening 
hill, I heard Reynal and Raymond shouting to me from 
the left ; and looking in that direction, I saw them riding 
away behind a party of about twenty mean-looking 
Indians. These were the relatives of Reynal's squaw, 35 
Margot, who not wishing to take part in the general 
hunt, were riding toward a distant hollow, where they 
could discern a small band of buffalo which they meant 



214 The Oregon Trail 

to appropriate to themselves. I answered to the call 
by ordering Raymond to turn back and follow me. He 
reluctantly obeyed, though Reynal, who had relied on 
his assistance in skinning, cutting up, and carrying to 
5 camp the buffalo that he and his party should kill, loudly 
protested and declared that we should see no sport if we 
went with the rest of the Indians. Followed by Ray- 
mond, I pursued the main body of hunters, while Reynal, 
in a great rage, whipped his horse over the hill after his 

10 ragamuffin relatives. The Indians, still about a hundred 
in number, rode in a dense body at some distance in ad- 
vance. They galloped forward, and a cloud of dust was 
flying in the wind behind them. I could not overtake 
them until they had stopped on the side of the hill where 

15 the scouts were standing. Here each hunter sprang in 
haste from the tired animal which he had ridden, and 
leaped upon the fresh horse that he had brought with 
him. There was not a saddle or a bridle in the whole 
party. A piece of buffalo-robe, girthed over the horse's 

20 back, served in the place of the one, and a cord of twisted 
hair, lashed firmly round his lower jaw, answered for the 
other. Eagle feathers were dangling from every mane 
and tail, as insignia of courage and speed. As for the 
rider, he wore no other clothing than a light cincture at 

25 his waist, and a pair of moccasins. He had a heavy whip, 
with a handle of solid elk-horn and a lash of knotted 
bull-hide, fastened to his wrist by an ornamental band. 
His bow was in his hand, and his quiver of otter or pan- 
ther-skin hung at his shoulder. Thus equipped, some 

30 thirty of the hunters galloped away toward the left, in 
order to make a circuit under cover of the hills, that the 
buffalo might be assailed on both sides at once. The rest 
impatiently waited until time enough had elapsed for their 
companions to reach the required position. Then riding 

35 upward in a body, we gained the ridge of the hill, and for 
the first time came in sight of the buffalo on the plain 
beyond. 

They were a band of cows, four or five hundred in 



The Hunting Camp 215 

number, who were crowded together near the bank of a 
wide stream that was soaking across the sand-beds of the 
valley. This was a large circular basin, sun scorched 
and broken, scantily covered with herbage and encom- 
passed with high barren hills, from an opening in which 5 
we could see our allies galloping out upon the plain. The 
wind blew from that direction. The buffalo were aware 
of their approach, and had begun to m.ove, though very 
slowly in a compact mass. I have no farther recol- 
lection of seeing the game until we were in the midst of 10 
them, for as we descended the hill other objects engrossed 
my attention. Numerous old bulls were scattered over 
the plain, and ungallantly deserting their charge at our 
approach, began to wade and plunge through the treacher- 
ous quicksands of the stream, and gallop away toward 15 
the hills. One old veteran was struggling behind all the 
rest with one of his forelegs, which had been broken by 
some accident, dangling about uselessly at his side. His 
appearance, as he went shambling along on three legs, was 
so ludicrous that I could not help pausing for a moment 20 
to look at him. As I came near, he would try to rush 
upon me, nearly throwing himself down at every awkward 
attempt. Looking up, I saw the whole body of Indians 
fully a hundred yards in advance. I lashed Pauline in 
pursuit and reached them just in time ; for as we mingled 25 
among them, each hunter, as if by common impulse, 
violently struck his horse, each horse sprang forward 
convulsively, and scattering in the charge in order to 
assail the entire herd at once, we all rushed headlong 
upon the buffalo. We were among them in an instant. 30 
Amid the trampling and the yells I could see their dark 
figures running hither and thither through clouds of dust, 
and the horsemen darting in pursuit. While we were 
charging on one side, our companions had attacked the 
bewildered and panic-stricken herd on the other. The 35 
uproar and confusion lasted but for a moment. The dust 
cleared away, and the buffalo could be seen scattering as 
from a common centre, flying over the plain singly, or in 



2i6 The Oregon Trail 

long files and small compact bodies, while behind each 
followed the Indians, lashing their horses to furious 
speed, forcing them close upon their prey, and yelling as 
they launched arrow after arrow into their sides. The 
5 large black carcasses were strewn thickly over the ground. 
Here and there wounded buffalo were standing, their 
bleeding sides feathered with arrows; and as I rode past 
them their eyes would glare, they would bristle like gigan- 
tic cats, and feebly attempt to rush up and gore my horse. 

10 I left camp that morning with a philosophic resolution. 
Neither I nor my horse was at that time fit for such sport, 
and I had determined to remain a quiet spectator; but 
amid the rush of horses and buffalo, the uproar and the 
dust, I found it impossible to sit still ; and as four or five 

15 buffalo ran past me in a line, I drove Pauline in pursuit. 
We went plunging close at their heels through the water 
and the quicksands, and, clambering the bank, chased 
them through the wild-sage bushes that covered the rising 
ground beyond. But neither her native spirit nor the 

20 blows of the knotted bull-hide could supply the place of 
poor Pauline's exhausted strength. We could not gain 
an inch upon the poor fugitives. At last, however, they 
came full upon a ravine too wide to leap over; and as 
this compelled them to turn abruptly to the left, I con- 

25 trived to get within ten or twelve yards of the hindmost. 
At this she faced about, bristled angrily, and made a show 
of charging. I shot at her with a large holster pistol, and 
hit her somewhere in the neck. Down she tumbled into 
the ravine, whither her companions had descended before 

30 her. I saw their dark backs appearing and disappearing 
as they galloped along the bottom ; then, one by one, they 
came scrambling out on the other side, and ran off as be- 
fore, the wounded animal following with unabated speed. 
Turning back, I saw Raymond coming on his black 

35 mule to meet me; and as we rode over the field together, 
we counted dozens of carcasses lying on the plain, in the 
ravines, and on the sandy bed of the stream. Far away 
in the distance, horses and buffalo were still scouring 



The Hunting Camp 217 

along, with little clouds of dust rising behind them; and 
over the sides of the hills we could see long files of the 
frightened animals rapidly ascending. The hunters began 
to return. The boys, who had held the horses behind 
the hill, made their appearance, and the work of flaying 6 
and cutting up began in earnest all over the field. I 
noticed my host, Kongra-Tonga, beyond the stream, 
just alighting by the side of a cow which he had killed. 
Riding up to him, I found him in the act of drawing out 
an arrow, which, with the exception of the notch at the 10 
end, had entirely disappeared in the animal. I asked 
him to give it to me, and I still retain it as a proof, though 
by no means the most striking one that could be offered, 
of the force and dexterity with which the Indians dis- 
charge their arrows. 15 

The hides and meat were piled upon the horses, and 
the hunters began to leave the ground. Raymond and I, 
too, getting tired of the scene, set out for the village, 
riding straight across the intervening desert. There was 
no path, and, as far as I could see, no landmarks suf- 20 
ficient to guide us; but Raymond seemed to have an 
instinctive perception of the point on the horizon toward 
which we ought to direct our course. Antelope were 
bounding on all sides, and as is always the case in the 
presence of buffalo, they seemed to have lost their natural 25 
shyness and timidity. Bands of them would run lightly 
up the rocky declivities, and stand gazing down upon us 
from the summit. At length we could distinguish the 
tall white rocks and the old pine trees that, as we well 
remembered, were just above the site of the encampment. 30 
Still, we could see nothing of the village itself until, 
ascending a grassy hill, we found the circle of lodges, 
dingy with storms and smoke, standing on the plain at our 
very feet. 

I entered the lodge of my host. His squaw instantly 35 
brought me food and water, and spread a buffalo-robe 
for me to lie upon ; and, being much fatigued, I lay down 
and fell asleep. In about an hour the entrance of Kongra- 



21 8 The Oregon Trail 

Tonga, with his arms smeared with blood to the elbows, 
awoke me. He sat down in his usual seat on the left side 
of the lodge. His squaw gave him a vessel of water for 
washing, set before him a bowl of boiled meat, and as he 
5 was eating, pulled off his bloody moccasins and placed 
fresh ones on his feet; then, outstretching his limbs, my 
host composed himself to sleep. 

And now the hunters, two or three at a time, began to 
come rapidly in, and each, consigning his horses to the 

10 squaws, entered his lodge with the air of a man whose 
day's work was done. The squaws flung down the load 
from the burdened horses, and vast piles of meat and 
hides were soon accumulated before every lodge. By 
this time it was darkening fast, and the whole village was 

15 illumined by the glare of fires blazing all around. All 
the squaws and children were gathered about the piles 
of meat, exploring them in search of the daintiest por- 
tions. Some of these they roasted on sticks before the 
fires, but often they dispensed with this superfluous opera- 

20tion. Late into the night the fires were still glowing 
upon the groups of f casters engaged in this savage banquet 
around them. 

Several hunters sat down by the fire in Kongra-Tonga's 
lodge to talk over the day's exploits. Among the rest, 

25 Mene-Seela came in. Though he must have seen full 
eighty winters, he had taken an active share in the day's 
sport. He boasted that he had killed two cows that 
morning, and would have killed a third if the dust had 
not blinded him so that he had to drop his bow and arrows 

30 and press both hands against his eyes to stop the pain. 
The firelight fell upon his wrinkled face and shrivelled 
figure as he sat telling his story with such inimitable 
gesticulation that every man in the lodge broke into a 
laugh. 

35 Old Mene-Seela was one of the few Indians in the 
village with whom I would have trusted myself alone 
without suspicion, and the only one from whom I should 
have received a gift or a service without the certainty 



The Hunting Camp 219 

that it proceeded from an interested motive. He was a 
great friend to the whites. He liked to be in their society, 
and was very vain of the favors he had received from 
them. He told me one afternoon, as we were sitting 
together in his son's lodge, that he considered the beaver 5 
and the whites the wisest people on earth; indeed, he 
was convinced they were the same ; and an incident which 
had happened to him long before had assured him of this. 
So he began the following story, and as the pipe passed 
in turn to him, Reynal availed himself of these interrup- 10 
tions to translate what had preceded. But the old man 
accompanied his words with such admirable pantomime 
that translation was hardly necessary. 

He said that when he was very young, and had never 
yet seen a white man, he and three or four of his com- 15 
panions were out on a beaver-hunt, and he crawled into 
a large beaver-lodge to examine what was there. Some- 
times he was creeping on his hands and knees, sometimes 
he was obliged to swim, and sometimes to lie flat on his 
face and drag himself along. In this way he crawled a 20 
great distance under ground. It was very dark, cold, 
and close, so that at last he was almost suffocated, and 
fell into a swoon. When he began to recover, he could 
just distinguish the voices of his companions outside, who 
had given him up for lost and were singing his death- 25 
song. At first he could see nothing, but soon he dis- 
cerned something white before him, and at length plainly 
distinguished three people, entirely white, one man and 
two women, sitting at the edge of a black pool of water. 
He became alarmed and thought it high time to retreat. 30 
Having succeeded after great trouble in reaching daylight 
again, he went straight to the spot directly above the pool 
of water where he had seen the three mysterious beings. 
Here he beat a hole with his war-club in the ground and 
sat down to watch. In a moment the nose of an old male 35 
beaver appeared at the opening. Mene-Seela instantly 
seized him and dragged him up, when two other beavers, 
both females, thrust out their heads, and these he served in 



220 The Oregon Trail 

the same way. " These," continued the old man, " must 
have been the three white people whom I saw sitting at 
the edge of the water." 
Mene-Seela was the grand depositary of the legends and 

5 traditions of the village. I succeeded, however, in getting 
from him only a few fragments. Like all Indians, he was 
excessively superstitious, and continually saw some reason 
for withholding his stories. " It is a bad thing," he would 
say, " to tell the tales in summer. Stay with us till next 

10 winter, and I will tell you everything I know ; but now our 

war-parties are going out, and our young men will be 

killed if I sit down to tell stories before the frost begins." 

But to leave this digression. We remained encamped 

on this spot five days, during three of which the hunters 

15 were at work incessantly, and immense quantities of meat 
and hides were brought in. Great alarm, however, pre- 
vailed in the village. All were on the alert. The young 
men were ranging through the country as scouts, and the 
old men paid careful attention to omens and prodigies, 

20 and especially to their dreams. In order to convey to 
the enemy (who, if they were in the neighborhood, must 
inevitably have known of our presence) the impression 
that we were constantly on the watch, piles of sticks and 
stones were erected on all the surrounding hills, in such 

25 a manner as to appear at a distance like sentinels. 
Often, even to this hour, that scene will rise before my 
mind like a visible reality: the tall white rocks; the old 
pine trees on their summits; the sandy stream that ran 
along their bases and half encircled the village; and the 

30 wild-sage bushes, with their dull green hue and their 
medicinal odor, that covered all the neighboring declivi- 
ties. Hour after hour the squaws would pass and repass 
with their vessels of water between the stream and the 
lodges. For the most part, no one was to be seen in the 

35 camp but women and children, two or three superannu- 
ated old men, and a few lazy and worthless young ones. 
These, together with the dogs, now grown fat and good- 
natured with the abundance in the camp, were its only 



The Hunting Camp 221 

tenants. Still it presented a busy and bustling scene. 
In all quarters the meat, hung on cords of hide, was drying 
in the sun, and around the lodges the squaws, young and 
old, were laboring on the fresh hides that were stretched 
upon the ground, scraping the hair from one side and the 5 
still-adhering flesh from the other, and rubbing into them 
the brains of the buffalo, in order to render them soft 
and pliant. 

In mercy to myself and my horse, I never went out 
with the hunters after the first day. Of late, however, I 10 
had been gaining strength rapidly, as was always the 
case upon every respite of my disorder. I was soon able 
to walk with ease. Raymond and I would go out upon 
the neighboring prairies to shoot antelope, or sometimes 
to assail straggling buffalo, on foot, an attempt in which 15 
we met with rather indifferent success. To kill a bull 
with a rifle-ball is a difficult art, in the secret of which I 
was as yet very imperfectly initiated. As I came out of 
Kongra-Tonga's lodge one morning, Reynal called to me 
from the opposite side of the village, and asked me over 20 
to breakfast. The breakfast was a substantial one. It 
consisted of the rich, juicy hump-ribs of a fat cow, a 
repast absolutely unrivalled. It was roasting before the 
fire, impaled upon a stout stick, which Reynal took up 
and planted in the ground before his lodge ; when he, 25 
with Raymond and myself, taking our seats around it, 
unsheathed our knives and assailed it with good will. In 
spite of all medical experience, this solid fare, without 
bread or salt, seemed to agree with me admirably. 

" We shall have strangers here before night," said 30 
Reynal. 

" How do you know that ? " I asked. 

" I dreamed so. I am as good at dreaming as an In- 
dian. There is the Hail-Storm; he dreamed the same 
thing, and he and his crony, the Rabbit, have gone out on 35 
discovery." 

I laughed at Reynal for his credulity, went over to my 
host's lodge, took down my rifle, walked out a mile or two 



222 The Oregon Trail 

on the prairie, saw an old bull standing alone, crawled up 
a ravine, shot him, and saw him escape. Then, quite* 
exhausted and rather ill-humored, I walked back to the 
village. By a strange coincidence, Reynal's prediction 

5 had been verified ; for the first persons whom I saw were 
the two trappers, Rouleau and Saraphin, coming to greet 
me. These men, as the reader may possibly recollect, had 
left our party about a fortnight before. They had been 
trapping for a while among the Black Hills, and were 

10 now on their way to the Rocky Mountains, intending in 
a day or two to set out for the neighboring Medicine 
Bow. They were not the most elegant or refined of com- 
panions, yet they made a very welcome addition to the 
limited society of the village. For the rest of that day 

15 we lay smoking and talking in Reynal's lodge. This, 
indeed, was no better than a little hut, made of hides 
stretched on poles, and entirely open in front. It was 
well carpeted with soft buffalo-robes, and here we re- 
mained, sheltered from the sun, surrounded by various 

20 domestic utensils 'of Madame Margot's housel^old. All 
was quiet in the village. Though the hunters had not 
gone out that day, they lay sleeping in their lodges, and 
most of the women were silently engaged in their heavy 
tasks. A few young men were playing at a lazy game of 

25 ball in the centre of the village ; and when they became 
tired, some girls supplied their place with a more boister- 
ous sport. At a little distance among the lodges, some 
children and half-grown squaws were playfully tossing 
up one of their number in a buffalo-robe, an exact counter- 

30 part of the ancient pastime from which Sancho Panza 
suffered so much. Farther out on the prairie, a host of 
little naked boys were roaming, engaged in various rough 
games, or pursuing birds and ground-squirrels with their 
bows and arrows; and woe to the unhappy little animals 

35 that fell into their merciless, torture-loving hands! A 
squaw from the next lodge, a notable active housewife, 
named Weah Washtay, or the Good Woman, brought us 
a large bowl of wasna, and went into an ecstasy of de- 



The Hunting Camp 223 

light when I presented her with a green glass ring, such 
as I usually wore with a view to similar occasions. 

The sun went down, and half the sky was glowing 
fiery red, reflected on the little stream as it wound away 
among the sage bushes. Some young men left the village, 5 
and soon returned, driving in before them all the horses, 
hundreds in number, and of every size, age, and color. 
The hunters came out, and each securing those that 
belonged to him, examined their condition, and tied 
them fast by long cords to stakes driven in front of his 10 
lodge. It was half an hour before the bustle subsided and 
tranquillity was restored again. By this time it was 
nearly dark. Kettles were hung over the blazing fires, 
around which the squaws were gathered with their chil- 
dren, laughing and talking merrily. A circle of a different 15 
kind was formed in the centre of the village. This was 
composed of the old men and warriors of repute, who, 
with their white buffalo-robes drawn close around their 
shoulders, sat together, and as the pipe passed from hand 
to hand, their conversation had not a particle of the 20 
gravity and reserve usually ascribed to Indians. I sat 
down with them as usual. I had in my hand half a 
dozen squibs and serpents, which I had made one day 
when encamped upon Laramie Creek, out of gunpowder 
and charcoal, and the leaves of " Fremont's Expedition," 25 
rolled round a stout lead-pencil. I waited till I contrived 
to get hold of the large piece of burning hois-de-vache 
which the Indians kept by them on the ground for light- 
ing their pipes. With this I lighted all the fireworks at 
once, and tossed them whizzing and sputtering into the 30 
air, over the heads of the company. They all jumped up 
and ran off with yelps of astonishment and consternation. 
After a moment or two, they ventured to come back one 
by one, and some of the boldest, picking up the cases of 
burnt paper that were scattered about, examined them 35 
with eager curiosity to discover their mysterious secret. 
From that time forward I enjoyed great repute as a " fire 
medicine." 



224 The Oregon Trail 

The camp was filled with the low hum of cheerful voices. 
There were other sounds, however, of a very different 
kind, for from a large lodge, lighted up like a gigantic 
lantern by the blazing fire within, came a chorus of dismal 

5 cries and wailings, long drawn out, like the howling of 
wolves, and a woman, almost naked, was crouching close 
outside, crying violently, and gashing her legs with a knife 
till they were covered with blood. Just a year before, a 
young man belonging to this family had gone out with a 

10 war-party and had been slain by the enemy, and his rela- 
tives were thus lamenting his loss. Still other sounds might 
be heard ; loud earnest cries often repeated from amid the 
gloom, at a distance beyond the village. They proceeded 
from some young men who, being about to set out in a few 

15 days on a warlike expedition, were standing at the top of a 
hill, calling on the Great Spirit to aid them in their enter- 
prise. While I was listening. Rouleau, with a laugh on 
his careless face, called to me and directed my attention to 
another quarter. In front of the lodge where Weah Wash- 

20tay lived another squaw was standing, angrily scolding 
an old yellow dog, who lay on the ground with his nose 
resting between his paws, and his eyes turned sleepily up to 
her face, as if he were pretending to give respectful atten- 
tion, but resolved to fall asleep as soon as it was all over. 

25 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! " said the old 
woman. " I have fed you well, and taken care of you 
ever since you were small and blind, and could only crawl 
about and squeal a little, instead of howling as you do 
now. When you grew old, I said you were a good dog. 

30 You were strong and gentle when the load was put on 
your back, and you never ran among the feet of the horses 
when we were all travelling together over the prairie. 
But you had a bad heart! Whenever a rabbit jumped 
out of the bushes, you were always the first to run after 

35 him and lead away all the other dogs behind you. You 
ought to have known that it was very dangerous to act 
so. When you had got far out on the prairie, and no one 
was near to help you, perhaps a wolf would jump out of 



The Hunting Camp 225 

the ravine; and then what could you do? You would 
certainly have been killed, for no dog can fight well with 
a load on his back. Only three days ago you ran off in 
that way, and turned over the bag of wooden pins with 
which I used to fasten the front of the lodge. Look up 5 
there, and you will see that it is all flapping open. And 
now to-night you have stolen a great piece of fat meat 
which was roasting before the fire for my children. I tell 
you, you have a bad heart, and you must die ! " 

So saying, the squaw went into the lodge, and coming 10 
out with a large stone mallet, killed the unfortunate dog 
at one blow. This speech is worthy of notice, as illustrat- 
ing a curious characteristic of the Indians: the ascribing 
intelligence and a power of understanding speech to the 
inferior animals, to whom, indeed, according to many of 15 
their traditions, they are linked in close affinity, and they 
even claim the honor of a lineal descent from bears, 
wolves, deer, or tortoises. 

As it grew late, and the crowded population began to 
disappear, I too walked across the village to the lodge of 20 
my host, Kongra-Tonga. As I entered I saw him, by 
the flickering blaze of the fire in the centre, reclining half 
asleep in his usual place. His couch was by np means an 
uncomfortable one. It consisted of soft buffalo-robes, 
laid together on the ground, and a pillow made of whitened 25 
deer-skin, stuffed with feathers and ornamented with 
beads. At his back was a light framework of poles and 
slender reeds, against which he could lean with ease 
when in a sitting posture ; and at the top of it, just above 
his head, his bow and quiver were hanging. His squaw, 30 
a laughing, broad-faced woman, apparently had not yet 
completed her domestic arrangements, for she was bustling 
about the lodge, pulling over the utensils and the bales 
of dried meats that were ranged carefully around it. 
Unhappily, she and her partner were not the only tenants 35 
of the dwelling, for half a dozen children were scattered 
about, sleeping in every imaginable posture. My saddle 
was in its place at the head of the lodge, and a buffalo- 



226 The Oregon Trail 

robe was spread on the ground before it. Wrapping 
myself in my blanket, I lay down; but had I not been 
extremely fatigued, the noise in the next lodge would 
have prevented my sleeping. There was the monotonous 
5 thumping of the Indian drum, mixd with occasional sharp 
yells, and a chorus chanted by twenty voices. A grand 
scene of gambling was going forward with all the appro- 
priate formalities. The players were staking on the 
chance issue of the game their ornaments, their horses, 

10 and as the excitement rose, their garments, and even their 
weapons; for desperate gambling is not confined to the 
hells of Paris. The men of the plains and the forest no 
less resort to it as a violent but grateful relief to the 
tedious monotony of their lives, which alternate between 

15 fierce excitement and listless inaction. I fell asleep with 
the dull notes of the drum still sounding on my ears, but 
these furious orgies lasted without intermission till day- 
light. I was soon awakened my one of the children crawl- 
ing over me, while another larger one was tugging at 

20 my blanket and nestling himself in a very disagreeable 
proximity. I immediately repelled these advances by 
punching the heads of these miniature savages with a 
short stick which I always kept by me for the purpose; 
and as sleeping half the day and eating much more than 

25 is good for them makes them extremely restless, this 
operation usually had to be repeated four or five times 
in the course of the night. My host himself was the author 
of another most formidable annoyance. All these Indians, 
and he among the rest, think themselves bound to the 

30 constant performance of certain acts as the condition on 
which their success in life depends, whether in war, love, 
hunting, or any other employment. These " medicines," 
as they are called in that country, which are usually 
communicated in dreams, are often absurd enough. Some 

35 Indians will strike the butt of the pipe against the ground 
every time they smoke; others will insist that everything 
they say shall be interpreted by contraries; and Shaw 
once met an old man who conceived that all would be 



The Hunting Camp 227 

lost unless he compelled every white man he met to drink 
a bowl of cold water. My host was particularly fortu- 
nate in his allotment. The Great Spirit had told him in a 
dream that he must sing a certain song in the middle of 
every night ; and regularly at about twelve o'clock his 5 
dismal monotonous chanting would awaken me, and I 
would see him seated bolt upright on his couch, going 
through his dolorous performance with a most business- 
like air. There were other voices of the night still more 
inharmonious. Twice or thrice, between sunset and dawn, 10 
all the dogs in the village, and there were hundreds of 
them, would bay and yelp in chorus; a most horrible 
clamor, resembling no sound that I have ever heard, 
except perhaps the frightful howling of wolves that we 
used sometimes to hear, long afterward, when descending 15 
the Arkansas on the trail of General Kearny's army. 
The canine uproar is, if possible, more discordant than 
that of the wolves. Heard at a distance, slowly rising 
on the night, it has a strange unearthly effect, and would 
fearfully haunt the dreams of a nervous man; but when 20 
you are sleeping in the midst of it, the din is outrageous. 
One long loud howl from the next lodge perhaps begins 
it, and voice after voice takes up the sound, till it passes 
around the whole circumference of the village, and the air 
is filled with confused and discordant cries, at once fierce 25 
and mournful. It lasts but for a moment, and then dies 
away into silence. 

Morning came, and Kongra-Tonga, mounting his horse, 
rode out with the hunters. It may not be amiss to glance 
at him for an instant in his domestic character of husband 30 
and father. Both he and his squaw, like most other 
Indians, were very fond of their children, whom they 
indulged in excess, and never punished, except in extreme 
cases, when they would throw a bowl of cold water over 
them. Their offspring became sufficiently undutiful and 35 
disobedient under this system of education, which tends 
not a little to foster that wild idea of liberty and utter 
intolerance of restraint which lie at the very foundation 



228 The Oregon Trail 

of the Indian character. It would be hard to find a fonder 
father than Kongra-Tonga. There was one urchin in 
particular, rather less than two feet high, to whom he 
was exceedingly attached; and sometimes spreading a 
5 buffalo-robe in the lodge, he would seat himself upon it, 
place his small favorite upright before him, and chant 
in a low tone some of the words used as an accompani- 
ment to the war-dance. The little fellow, who could just 
manage to balance himself by stretching out both arms, 

10 would lift his feet and turn slowly round and round in 
time to his father's music, while my host would laugh 
with delight, and look smiling up into my face to see if I 
were admiring this precocious performance of his off- 
spring. In his capacity of husband he was somewhat 

15 less exemplary. The squaw who lived in the lodge with 
him had been his partner for many years. She took good 
care of his children and his household concerns. He 
liked her well enough, and, as far as I could see, they never 
quarrelled; but all his warmer affections were reserved 

20 for younger and more recent favorites. Of these he had 
at present only one, who lived in a lodge apart from his 
own. One day while in his camp, he became displeased 
with her, pushed her out, threw after her her ornaments, 
dresses, and everything she had, and told her to go home to 

25 her father. Having consummated this summary divorce, 

for which he could show good reasons, he came back, 

seated himself in his usual place, and began to smoke with 

an air of the utmost tranquillity and self-satisfaction. 

I was sitting in the lodge with him on that very after- 

30 noon, when I felt some curiosity to learn the history of 
the numerous scars that appeared on his naked body. 
Of some of them, however, I did not venture to inquire, 
for I already understood their origin. Each of his arms 
was marked as if deeply gashed with a knife at regular 

35 intervals, and there were other scars also, of a different 
character, on his back and on either breast. They were 
the traces of those formidable tortures which these In- 
dians, in common with a few other tribes, inflict upon 



The Hunting Camp 229 

themselves at certain seasons; in part, it may be, to gain 
the glory of courage and endurance, but chiefly as an act 
of self-sacrifice to secure the favor of the Great Spirit. 
The scars upon the breast and back were produced by 
running through the flesh strong splints of wood, to 5 
which ponderous buffalo skulls are fastened by cords of 
hides, and the wretch runs forward with all his strength, 
assisted by two companions, who take hold of each arm, 
until the flesh tears apart and the heavy loads are left 
behind. Others of Kongra-Tonga's scars were the result 10 
of accidents; but he had many which he received in war. 
He was one of the most noted warriors in the village. 
In the course of his life he had slain, as he boasted to me, 
fourteen men; and though, like other Indians, he was a 
great braggart and utterly regardless of truth, yet in 15 
this statement common report bore him out. Being 
much flattered by my inquiries, he told me tale after tale, 
true or false, of his warlike exploits; and there was one 
among the rest illustrating the worst features of the In- 
dian character too well for me to omit it. Pointing out 20 
of the opening of the lodge toward the Medicine Bow 
Mountains, not many miles distant, he said that he was 
there a few summers ago with a war-party of his young 
men. Here they found two Snake Indians hunting. They 
shot one of them with arrows and chased the other up 25 
the side of the mountain till they surrounded him on 
a level place, and Kongra-Tonga himself jumping for- 
ward among the trees, seized him by the arm. Two of 
his young men then ran up and held him fast while he 
scalped him alive. They then built a great fire, and cut- 30 
ting the tendons of their captive's wrists and feet, threw 
him in, and held him down with long poles until he was 
burnt to death. He garnished his story with a great 
many descriptive particulars much too revolting to men- 
tion. His features were remarkably mild and open, with- 35 
out the fierceness of expression common among these 
Indians; and as he detailed these devilish cruelties, he 
looked up into my face with the same air of earnest sim- 



230 The Oregon Trail 

plicity which a little child would wear in relating to its 
mother some anecdote of its youthful experience. 

Old Mene-Seela's lodge could offer another illustration 
of the ferocity of Indian warfare. A bright-eyed, active 
5 little boy was living there. He had belonged to a village 
of the Gros- Ventre Blackfeet, a small but bloody and 
treacherous band in close alliance with the Arapahoes. 
About a year before, Kongra-Tonga and a party of war- 
riors had found about twenty lodges of these Indians 

10 upon the plains a little to the eastward of our present 
camp; and surrounding them in the night, they butchered 
men, women, and children without mercy, preserving only 
this little boy alive. He was adopted into the old man's 
family, and was now fast becoming identified with the 

15 Ogillallah children, among whom he mingled on equal 
terms. There was also a Crow warrior in the village, a 
man of gigantic stature and most symmetrical proportions. 
Having been taken prisoner many years before and 
adopted by a squaw in place of a son whom she had lost, 

20 he had forgotten his old national antipathies, and was now 
both in act and inclination an Ogillallah. 

It will be remembered that the scheme of the grand 
warlike combination against the Snake and Crow Indians 
originated in this village ; and though this plan had fallen 

25 to the ground, the embers of the martial ardor continued 
to glow brightly. Eleven young men had prepared them- 
selves to go out against the enemy. The fourth day of 
our stay in this camp was fixed for their departure. 
At the head of this party was a well-built, active little 

30 Indian called the White Shield, whom I had always 
noticed for the great neatness of his dress and appearance. 
His lodge too, though not a large one, was the best in the 
village, his squaw was one of the prettiest girls, and alto- 
gether his dwelling presented a complete model of an 

35 Ogillallah domestic establishment. I was often a visitor 
there, for the White Shield being rather partial to white 
men, used to invite me to continual feasts at all hours of 
the day. Once when the substantial part of the enter- 



The Hunting Camp 231 

tainment was concluded, and he and I were seated cross- 
legged on a buffalo-robe, smoking together very amicably, 
he took down his warlike equipments, which were hanging 
around the lodge, and displayed them with great pride 
and self-importance. Among the rest was a most superb 5 
head-dress of feathers. Taking this from its case, he put 
it on and stood before me, as if conscious of the gallant 
air which it gave to his dark face and his vigorous grace- 
ful figure. He told me that upon it were the feathers of 
three war-eagles, equal in value to the same number of 10 
good horses. He took up also a shield gayly painted and 
hung with feathers. The effect of these barbaric orna- 
ments was admirable, for they were arranged with no little 
skill and taste. His quiver was made of the spotted skin 
of a small panther, such as are common among the Black 15 
Hills, from which the tail and distended claws were still 
allowed to hang. The White Shield concluded his enter- 
tainment in a manner characteristic of an Indian. He 
begged of me a little powder and ball, for he had a gun 
as well as bow and arrows ; but this I was obliged to re- 20 
fuse, because I had scarcely enough for my own use. 
Making him, however, a parting present of a paper of 
vermilion, I left him apparently quite contented. 

Unhappily on the next morning the White Shield 
took cold and was attacked with a violent inflammation 25 
of the throat. Immediately he seemed to lose all spirit, 
and though before no warrior in the village had borne 
himself more proudly, he now moped about from lodge 
to lodge with a forlorn and dejected air. At length he 
came and sat down, closely wrapped in his robe, before 39 
the lodge of Reynal, but when he found that neither 
he nor I knew how to relieve him, he arose and stalked 
over to one of the medicine-men of the village. This old 
impostor thumped him for some time with both fists, 
howled and yelped over him, and beat a drum close to 35 
his ear to expel the evil spirit that had taken possesion 
of him. This vigorous treatment failing of the desired 
effect, the White Shield withdrew to his own lodge, where 



232 The Oregon Trail 



he lay disconsolate for some hours. Making his appear- 
ance once more in the afternoon, he again took his seat 
on the ground before Reynal's lodge, holding his throat 
with his hand. For some time he sat perfectly silent 

5 with his eyes fixed mournfully on the ground. At last 
he began to speak in a low tone : 

"I am a brave man," he said ; " all the young men 
think me a great warrior, and ten of them are ready to 
go with me to the war. I will go and show them the 

10 enemy. Last summer the Snakes killed my brother. I 
cannot live unless I revenge his death. To-morrow we 
will set out and I will take their scalps." 

The White Shield, as he expressed this resolution, 
seemed to have lost all the accustomed fire and spirit of 

15 his look, and hung his head as if in a fit of despondency. 

As I was sitting that evening at one of the fires, I saw 

him arrayed in his splendid war-dress, his cheeks painted 

with vermilion, leading his favorite war-horse to the front 

of his lodge. He mounted and rode around the village, 

20 singing his war-song in a loud hoarse voice amid the 
shrill acclamations of the women. Then dismounting, he 
remained for some minutes prostrate upon the ground, as 
if in an act of supplication. On the following morning 
I looked in vain for the departure of the warriors. All 

25 was quiet in the village until late in the forenoon, when 
the White Shield, issuing from his lodge, came and seated 
himself in his old place before us. Reynal asked him 
why he had not gone out to find the enemy. 

" I cannot go," answered the White Shield in a dejected 

30 voice. " I have given my war-arrows to the Meneaska." 
"You have only given him two of your arrows," said^ 
Reynal. "If you ask him, he will give them back again." 
For some time the White Shield said nothing. At last 
he spoke in a gloomy tone : 

35 " One of my young men has had bad dreams. The 
spirits of the dead came and threw stones at him in his 
sleep." 

If such a dream had actually taken place it might 



The Hunting Camp 233 

have broken up this or any other war-party, but both 
Reynal and I were convinced at the time that it was a 
mere fabrication to excuse his remaining at home. 

The White Shield was a warrior of noted prowess. 
Very probably he would have received a mortal wounds 
without the show of pain, and endured without flinching 
the worst tortures that an enemy could inflict upon him. 
The whole power of an Indian's nature would be sum- 
moned to encounter such a trial; every influence of his 
education from childhood would have prepared him for 10 
it; the cause of his suffering would have been visibly and 
palpably before him, and his spirit would rise to set his 
enemy at defiance, and gain the highest glory of a war- 
rior by meeting death with fortitude. But when he feels 
himself attacked by a mysterious evil, before whose in- 15 
sidious assaults his manhood is wasted and his strength 
drained away, when he can see no enemy to resist and 
defy, the boldest warrior falls prostrate at once. He be- 
lieves that a bad spirit has taken possession of him, or 
that he is the victim of some charm. When suffering 20 
from a protracted disorder, an Indian will often abandon 
himself to his supposed destiny, pine away and die, the 
victim of his own imagination. The same effect will often 
follow from a series of calamities, or a long run of ill suc- 
cess, and the sufferer has been known to ride into the 25 
midst of an enemy's camp, or attack a grizzly bear single- 
handed, to get rid of a life which he supposed to lie under 
the doom of misfortune. 

Thus after all his fasting, dreaming, and calling upon 
the Great Spirit, the White Shield's war-party was piti- so 
fully broken up. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE TRAPPERS 

" Ours the wild life, in tumult still to range, 
From toil to rest, and joy in every change; 

The exulting sense, the pulse's maddening play, 
That thrills the wanderer of the trackless way; 
That for itself can woo the approaching fight, 
And turn what some deem danger to delight : 

Come when it will we snatch the life of life ; 
When lost, what recks it by disease or strife?" 

The Corsair. 

In speaking of the Indians, I have almost forgotten two 
bold adventurers of another race, the trappers Rouleau 
and Saraphin. These men were bent on a most hazardous 
enterprise. A day's journey to the westward was the 
5 country over which the Arapahoes are accustomed to 
range, and for which the two trappers were on the point 
of setting out. These Arapahoes, of whom Shaw and I 
afterward fell in with a large village, are ferocious bar- 
barians, of a most brutal and wolfish aspect; and of late 

10 they had declared themselves enemies of the whites, and 
threatened death to the first who should venture within 
their territory. The occasion of the declaration was as 
follows : 

In the previous spring, 1845, Col. Kearny left Fort 

16 Leavenworth with several companies of dragoons, and 
marching with extraordinary celerity, reached Fort Lara- 
mie, whence he passed along the foot of the mountains to 
Bent's Fort, and then, turning eastward again, returned 
to the point from whence he set out. While at Fort 

20 Laramie he sent a part of his command as far westward 
as Sweetwater, while he himself remained at the fort, 

834 



I 



The Trappers 235 

and dispatched messages to the surrounding Indians to 
meet him there in council. Then for the first time the 
tribes of that vicinity saw the white warriors, and, as 
might have been expected, they were lost in astonish- 
ment at their regular order, their gay attire, the complete- 5 
ness of their martial equipment, and the great size and 
power of their horses. Among the rest, the Arapahoes 
came in considerable numbers to the fort. They had 
lately committed numerous acts of outrage, and Col. 
Kearny threatened that if they killed any more white 10 
men he would turn loose his dragoons upon them, and 
annihilate their whole nation. In the evening, to add 
effect to his speech, he ordered a howitzer to be fired and 
a rocket to be thrown up. Many of the Arapahoes fell 
prostrate on the ground, while others ran away screaming 15 
with amazement and terror. On the following day they 
withdrew to their mountains, confounded with awe at 
the appearance of the dragoons, at their big gun which 
went off twice at one shot, and the fiery messenger which 
they had sent up to the Great Spirit. For many months 20 
they remained quiet, and did no farther mischief. At 
length, just before we came into the country, one of them, 
by an act of the basest treachery, killed two white men, 
Boot and May, who were trapping among the mountains. 
For this act it was impossible to discover a motive. It 25 
seemed to spring from one of those inexplicable impulses 
which often actuate Indians, and appear no better than 
the mere outbreaks of native ferocity. No sooner was 
the murder committed than the whole tribe were in 
extreme consternation. They expected every day that 30 
the avenging dragoons would arrive, little thinking that 
a desert of nine hundred miles in extent lay between the 
latter and their mountain fastnesses. A large deputation 
of them came to Fort Laramie, bringing a valuable pres- 
ent of horses, in compensation for the lives of the mur- 35 
dered men. These Bordeaux refused to accept. They 
then asked him if he would be satisfied with their deliver- 
ing up the murderer himself; but he declined this offer 



236 The Oregon Trail 

also. The Arapahoes went back more terrified than ever. 
Weeks passed away, and still no dragoons appeared. A 
result followed which all those best acquainted with In- 
dians had predicted. They conceived that fear had pre- 
5 vented Bordeaux from accepting their gifts, and that they 
had nothing to apprehend from the vengeance of the 
whites. From terror they rose to the height of insolence 
and presumption. They called the white men cowards 
and old women; and a friendly Dahcotah came to Fort 

10 Laramie and reported that they were determined to kill 

the first of the white dogs whom they could lay hands on. 

Had a military officer, intrusted with suitable powers, 

been stationed at Fort Laramie, and had he accepted 

the offer of the Arapahoes to deliver up the murderer, 

15 and ordered him to be immediately led out and shot 
in presence of his tribe, they would have been awed into 
tranquillity, and much danger and calamity averted; but 
now the neighborhood of the Medicine-Bow Mountain 
and the region beyond it was a scene of extreme peril. 

20 Old Mene-Seela, a true friend of the whites, and many 
other of the Indians gathered about the two trappers, 
and vainly endeavored to turn them from their purpose; 
but Rouleau and Saraphin only laughed at the danger. 
On the morning preceding that one which they were to 

25 leave the camp, we could all discern faint white columns 
of smoke rising against the dark base of the Medicine 
Bow. Scouts were out immediately, and reported that 
these proceeded from an Arapahoe camp, abandoned only 
a few hours before. Still the two trappers continued their 

30 preparations for departure. 

Saraphin was a tall, powerful fellow, with a sullen and 
sinister countenance. His rifle had very probably drawn 
other blood than that of buffalo or even Indians. Rou- 
leau had a broad, ruddy face, marked with as few traces 

35 of thought or of care as a child's. His figure was remark- 
ably square and strong, but the first joints of both his 
feet were frozen off, and his horse had lately thrown and 
trampled upon him, by which he had been severely in- 



The Trappers 237 

jured in the chest. But nothing could check his invet- 
erate propensity for laughter and gayety. He went all 
day rolling about the camp on his stumps of feet, talking 
and singing and frolicking with the Indian women as 
they were engaged at their work. In fact Rouleau had 5 
an unlucky partiality for squaws. He always had one 
whom he must needs bedizen with beads, ribbons, and all 
the finery of an Indian wardrobe; and though he was, of 
course, obliged to leave her behind him during his expedi- 
tions, yet this hazardous necessity did not at all trouble 10 
him, for his disposition was the very reverse of jealous. 
If at any time he had not lavished the whole of the pre- 
carious profits of his vocation upon his dark favorite, he 
always devoted the rest to feasting his comrades. If 
liquor was not to be had — and this was usually the case — 15 
strong coffee would be substituted. As the men of that 
region are by no means remarkable for providence or 
self-restraint, whatever was set before them on these 
occasions, however extravagant in price or enormous in 
quantity, was sure to be disposed of at one sitting. Like 20 
other trappers', Rouleau's life was one of contrast and 
variety. It was only at certain seasons, and for a limited 
time, that he was absent on his expeditions. For the 
rest of the year he would be lounging about the fort, or 
encamped with his friends in its vicinity, lazily hunting 25 
or enjoying all the luxury of inaction; but when once in 
pursuit of the beaver, he was involved in extreme priva- 
tions and desperate perils. When in the midst of his 
game and his enemies, hand and foot, eye and ear, are 
incessantly active. Frequently he must content himself 30 
with devouring his evening meal uncooked, lest the light 
of his fire should attract the eyes of some wandering In- 
dian ; and sometimes having made his rude repast, he must 
leave his fire still blazing, and withdraw to a distance 
under cover of the darkness, that his disappointed enemy, 35 
drawn thither by the light, may find his victim gone 
and be unable to trace his footsteps in the gloom. This 
is the life led by scores of men in the Rocky Mountains 



238 The Oregon Trail 

and their vicinity. I once met a trapper whose breast 
was marked with the scars of six bullets and arrows, one 
of his arms broken by a shot, and one of his knees shat- 
tered; yet still, with the undaunted mettle of New Eng- 
5 land, from which part of the country he had come, he 
continued to follow his perilous occupation. To some of 
the children of cities it may seem strange that men with 
no object in view should continue to follow a life of such 
hardship and desperate adventure ; yet there is a mysteri- 

lOous, resistless charm in the basilisk eye of danger, and 
few men perhaps remain long in that wild region without 
learning to love peril for its own sake, and to laugh care- 
lessly in the face of death. 

On the last day of our stay in this camp the trappers 

15 were ready for departure. When in the Black Hills they 
had caught seven beaver, and they now left their skins 
in charge of Reynal, to be kept until their return. Their 
strong, gaunt horses were equipped with rusty Spanish 
bits and rude Mexican saddles, to which wooden stirrups 

20 were attached, while a buffalo-robe was rolled up behind 
them, and a bundle of beaver traps slung at the pommel. 
These, together with their rifles, their knives, their powder- 
horns and bullet-pouches, flint and steel, and a tin cup, 
composed their whole travelling equipment. They shook 

25 hands with us and rode away ; Saraphin, with his grim 
countenance, like a surly bull-dog's, was in advance; but 
Rouleau, clambering gayly into his seat, kicked his horse's 
sides, flourished his whip in the air, and trotted briskly 
over the prairie, trolling forth a Canadian song at the top 

30 of his lungs. Reynal looked after them with his face of 
brutal selfishness. 

" Well," he said, " if they are killed, I shall have the 
beaver. They'll fetch me fifty dollars at the fort, any- 
how." 

35 This was the last I saw of them. 

We had been for five days in the hunting camp, and 
the meat, which all this time had hung drying in the sun, 
was now fit for transportation. Buffalo-hides also had 



The Trappers 239 

been procured in sufficient quantities for making the 
next season's lodges; but it remained to provide the long 
slender poles on which they were to be supported. These 
were only to be had among the tall pine woods of the 
Black Hills, and in that direction, therefore, our next 5 
move was to be made. It is worthy of notice that amid 
the general abundance which during this time had pre- 
vailed in the camp, there were no instances of individual 
privation; for although the hide and the tongue of the 
buffalo belong by exclusive right to the hunter who has 10 
killed it, yet any one else is equally entitled to help him- 
self from the rest of the carcass. Thus the weak, the 
aged, and even the indolent come in for a share of the 
spoils, and many a helpless old woman, who would other- 
wise perish from starvation, is sustained in profuse 15 
abundance. 

On the twenty-fifth of July, late in the afternoon, the 
camp broke up with the usual tumult and confusion, 
and we were all moving once more, on horseback and on 
foot, over the plains. We advanced, however but a 20 
few miles. The old men, who during the whole march 
had been stoutly striding along on foot in front of the 
people, now seated themselves in a circle on the ground, 
while all the families erecting their lodges in the pre- 
scribed order around them, formed the usual great circle 25 
of the camp; meanwhile these village patriarchs sat smok- 
ing and talking. I threw my bridle to Raymond, and sat 
down as usual along with them. There was none of that 
reserve and apparent dignity which an Indian always 
assumes when in council, or in the presence of white men 30 
whom he distrusts. The party, on the contrary, was an 
extremely merry one, and as in a social circle of a quite 
different charecter, " if there was not much wit, there was 
at least a great deal of laughter." 

When the first pipe was smoked out, I rose and with- 35 
drew to the lodge of my host. Here I was stooping, in 
the act of taking off my powder-horn and bullet-pouch, 
when suddenly, and close at hand, pealing loud and 



240 The Oregon Trail 

shrill, and in right good earnest, came the terrific yell of 
the war-whoop. Kongra-Tonga's squaw snatched up her 
youngest child, and ran out of the lodge. I followed, and 
found the whole village in confusion, resounding with 
5 cries and yells. The circle of old men in the centre had 
vanished. The warriors with glittering eyes came dart- 
ing, their weapons in their hands, out of the low openings 
of the lodges, and running with wild yells toward the 
farther end of the village. Advancing a few rods in that 

10 direction, I saw a crowd in furious agitation, while others 
ran up on every side to add to the confusion. Just then I 
distinguished the voices of Raymond and Reynal, shout- 
ing to me from a distance, and looking back, I saw the 
latter with his rifle in his hand, standing on the farther 

15 bank of a little stream that ran along the outskirts of the 
camp. He was calling to Raymond and myself to come 
over and join him, and Raymond, with his usual deliberate 
gait and stolid countenance, was already moving in that 
direction. 

20 This was clearly the wisest course, unless we wished 
to involve ourselves in the fray; so I turned to go, but 
just then a pair of eyes, gleaming like a snake's, and an 
aged familiar countenance was thrust from the opening 
of a neighboring lodge, and out bolted old Mene-Seela, 

25 full of fight, clutching his bow and arrows in one hand 
and his knife in the other. At that instant he tripped and 
fell sprawling on his face, while his weapons flew scatter- 
ing away in every direction. The women, with loud 
screams, were hurrying with their children in their arms 

30 to place them out of danger, and I observed some hasten- 
ing to prevent mischief by carrying away all the weapons 
they could lay hands on. On a rising ground close to the 
camp stood a line of old women singing a medicine-song to 
allay the tumult. As I approached the side of the brook, 

35 I heard gun-shots behind me, and turning back, I saw 
that the crowd had separated into two long lines of naked 
warriors, confronting each other at a respectful distance, 
and yelling and jumping about to dodge the shot of their 



The Trappers 241 

adversaries, while they discharged bullets and arrows 
against each other. At the same time certain sharp, hum- 
ming sounds in the air over my head, like the flight of 
beetles on a summer evening, warned me that the danger 
was not wholly confined to the immediate scene of the 5 
fray. So, wading through'the brook, I joined Reynal and 
Raymond, and we sat down on the grass, in the posture 
of an armed neutrality, to watch the result. 

Happily it may be for ourselves, though quite contrary 
to our expectation, the disturbance was quelled almost 10 
as soon as it had commenced. When I looked again, 
the combatants were once more mingled together in a 
mass. Though yells sounded occasionally from the throng, 
the firing had entirely ceased, and I observed five or six 
persons moving busily about, as if acting the part of 15 
peacemakers. One of the village heralds or criers pro- 
claimed in a loud voice something which my two compan- 
ions were too much engrossed in their own observations 
to translate for me. The crowd began to disperse, though 
many a deep-set black eye still flittered with an unnatural 20 
lustre, as the warriors slowly withdrew to their lodges. 
This fortunate suppression of the disturbance was owing 
to a few of the old men, less pugnacious than Mene-Seela, 
who boldly ran in between the combatants, and, aided 
by some of the "soldiers," or Indian police, succeeded 25 
in effecting their object. 

It seemed very strange to me that although many 
arrows and bullets were discharged, no one was mortally 
hurt, and I could only account for this by the fact that 
both the marksman and the object of his aim were leap- 30 
ing about incessantly during the whole time. By far the 
greater part of the villagers had joined in the fray, for 
although there were not more than a dozen guns in the 
whole camp, I heard at least eight or ten shots fired. 

In a quarter of an hour all was comparatively quiet. 35 
A large circle of warriors was again seated in the centre 
of the village, but this time I did not venture to join 
them, because I could see that the pipe, contrary to the 



242 The Oregon Trail 

usual order, was passing from the left hand to the right 
around the circle ; a sure sign that a " medicine-smoke " 
of reconciliation was going forward, and that a white 
man would be an unwelcome intruder. When I again 

5 entered the still agitated camp it was nearly dark, and 
mournful cries, howls, and wailings resounded from many 
female voices. Whether these had any connection with 
the late disturbance, or were merely lamentations for 
relatives slain in some former war expeditions, I could 

10 not distinctly ascertain. 

To inquire too closely into the cause of the quarrel 
was by no means prudent, and it was not until some 
time after that I discovered what had given rise to it. 
Among the Dahcotahs there are many associations, or 

15 fraternities, connected with the purposes of their super- 
stitions, their warfare, or their social life. There was one 
called " The Arrow-Breakers," now in a great measure 
disbanded and dispersed. In the village there were, how- 
ever, four men belonging to it, distinguished by the 

20 peculiar arrangement of ttieir hair, which rose in a high 
bristling mass above their foreheads, adding greatly to 
their apparent height, and giving them a most ferocious 
appearance. The principal among them was the Mad 
Wolf, a warrior of remarkable size and strength, great 

25 courage, and the fierceness of a demon. I had always 
looked upon him as the most dangerous man in the vil- 
lage; and though he often invited me to feasts, I never 
. entered his lodge unarmed. The Mad' Wolf had taken a 
fancy to a fine horse belonging to another Indian, who 

30 was called the Tall Bear ; and anxious to get the animal 
into his possession, he made the owner a present of an- 
other horse nearly equal in value. According to the 
customs of the Dahcotah, the acceptance of this gift in- 
volved a sort of obligation to make an equitable return; 

35 and the Tall Bear well understood that the other had in 
view the obtaining of his favorite buffalo-horse. He, 
however, accepted the present without a word of thanks, 
and having picketed the horse before his lodge, he suf- 



The Trappers 243 

fered day after day to pass without making the expected 
return. The Mad Wolf grew impatient and angry; and at 
last, seeing that his bounty was not likely to produce the 
desired return, he resolved to reclaim it. So this evening, 
as soon as the village was encamped, he went to the lodge 5 
of the Tall Bear, seized upon the horse that he had given 
him, and led him away. At this the Tall Bear broke 
into one of those fits of sullen rage not uncommon among 
the Indians. He ran up to the unfortunate horse, and 
gave him three mortal stabs with his knife. Quick as 10 
lightning the Mad Wolf drew his bow to its utmost ten- 
sion, and held the arrow quivering close to the breast of 
his adversary. The Tall Bear, as the Indians who were 
near him said, stood with his bloody knife in his hand, 
facing the assailant with the utmost calmness. Some of 15 
his friends and relatives, seeing his danger, ran hastily 
to his assistance. The remaining three Arrow Breakers, 
on the other hand, came to the aid of their associate. 
Many of their friends joined them, the war-cry was raised 
on a sudden, and the tumult became general. 20 

The " soldiers," who lent their timely aid in putting it 
down, are by far the most important executive function- 
aries in an Indian village. The office is one of consider- 
able honor, being confided only to men of courage and 
repute. They derive their authority from the old men and 25 
chief warriors of the village, who elect them in councils 
occasionally convened for the purpose, and thus can 
exercise a degree of authority which no one else in the 
village would dare to assume. While very few Ogillallah 
chiefs could venture without instant jeopardy of their 30 
lives to strike or lay hands upon the meanest of their 
people, the " soldiers," in the discharge of their appro- 
priate functions, have full license to make use of these 
and similar acts of coercion. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE BLACK HILLS 

" To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, 
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, 
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, 
And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ; 
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, 
With the wild flock that never needs a fold; 
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; 
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold 

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores 
unrolled." 

Childe Harold. 

We travelled eastward for two days, and then the gloomy 
ridges of the Black Hills rose up before us. The village 
passed along for some miles beneath their declivities, 
trailing out to a great length over the arid prairie, or 
6 winding at times among small detached hills of distorted 
shapes. Turning sharply to the left, v^e entered a wide 
defile of the mountains, down the bottom of which a 
brook came winding, lined with tall grass and dense 
copses, amid which were hidden many beaver-dams and 

10 lodges. We passed along between two lines of high preci- 
pices and rocks, piled in utter disorder one upon another, 
and with scarcely a tree, a bush, or a clump of grass to 
veil their nakedness. The restless Indian boys were 
wandering along their edges and clambering up and down 

15 their rugged sides, and sometimes a group of them would 
stand on the verge of a cliff and look down on the array 
as it passed in review beneath them. As we advanced, 
the passage grew more narrow ; then it suddenly expanded 
into a round grassy meadow, completely encompassed 

20 by mountains ; and here the families stopped as they 
came up in turn, and the camp rose like magic. 

244 



The Black Hills 245 

The lodges were hardly erected when, with their usual 
precipitation, the Indians set about accomplishing the 
object that had brought them there; that is, the obtain- 
ing poles for supporting their new lodges. Half the popu- 
lation, men, women, and boys, mounted their horses and 5 
set out for the interior of the mountains. As they rode 
at full gallop over the shingly rocks and into the dark 
opening of the defile beyond, I thought I had never read 
or dreamed of a more strange or picturesque cavalcade. 
We passed between precipices more than a thousand feet 10 
high, sharp and splintering at the tops, their sides beetling 
over the defile or descending in abrupt declivities, bris- 
tling with black fir trees. On our left they rose close to us 
like a wall, but on the right a winding brook with a nar- 
row strip of marshy soil intervened. The stream was 15 
clogged with old beaver-dams and spread frequently into 
wide pools. There were thick bushes and many dead 
and blasted trees along its course, though frequently 
nothing remained but stumps cut close to the ground by 
the beaver, and marked with the sharp chisel-like teeth 20 
of those indefatigable laborers. Sometimes we were div- 
ing among trees, and then emerging upon open spots, 
over which, Indian-like, all galloped at full speed. As 
Pauline bounded over the rocks I felt her saddle-girth 
slipping, and alighted to draw it tighter ; when the whole 25 
array swept past me in a moment, the women with their 
gaudy ornaments tinkling as they rode, the men whoop- 
ing and laughing and lashing forward their horses. Two 
black-tailed deer bounded away among the rocks; Ray- 
mond shot at them from horseback; the sharp report of 30 
his rifle was answered by another equally sharp from the 
opposing cliffs, and then the echoes, leaping in rapid 
succession from side to side, died away, rattling far amid 
the mountains. 

After having ridden in this manner for six or eight 35 
miles, the appearance of the scene began to change, and 
all the declivities around us were covered with forests of 
tall, slender pine trees. The Indians began to fall off 



246 The Oregon Trail 

to the right and left, and dispersed with their hatchets 
and knives among these woods, to cut the poles which 
they had come to seek. Soon I was left almost alone; 
but in the deep stillness of those lonely mountains the 
5 stroke of hatchets and the sound of voices might be heard 
from far and near. 

Reynal, who imitated the Indians in their habits as 
well as the worst features of their character, had killed 
buffalo enough to make a lodge for himself and his squaw, 
10 and now he was eager to get the poles necessary to com- 
plete it. He asked me to let Raymond go with him and 
assist in the work. I assented, and the two men imme- 
diately entered the thickest part of the wood. Having 
left my horse in Raymond's keeping, I began to climb 
15 the mountain. I was weak and weary and made slow 
progress, often pausing to rest; but after an hour had 
elapsed, I gained a height, whence the little valley out 
of which I had climbed seemed like a deep, dark gulf, 
though the inaccessible peak of the mountain was still 
20 towering to a much greater distance above. Objects 
familiar from childhood surrounded me : crags and rocks, 
a black and sullen brook that gurgled with a hollow voice 
deep among the crevices, a wood of mossy, distorted 
trees and prostrate trunks flung down by age and storms, 
25 scattered among the rocks or damming the foaming 
waters of the little brook. The objects were the same, 
yet they were thrown into a wilder and more startling 
scene, for the black crags and the savage trees assumed 
a grim and threatening aspect, and close across the valley 
30 the opposing mountain confronted me, rising from the 
gulf for thousands of feet, with its bare pinnacles and its 
ragged covering of pines. Yet the scene was not without 
its milder features. As I ascended, I found frequent 
little grassy terraces, and there was one of these close at 
35 hand, across which the brook was stealing, beneath the 
shade of scattered trees that seemed artificially planted. 
Here I made a welcome discovery, no other than a bed 
of strawberries, with their white flowers and their red 



The Black Hills 247 

fruit, close nestled among the grass by the side of the 
brook; and I sat down by them, hailing them as old 
acquaintances ; for among those lonely and perilous moun- 
tains, they awakened delicious associations of the gardens 
and peaceful homes of far-distant New England. 5 

Yet wild as they were, these mountains were thickly 
peopled. As I climbed farther, I found the broad dusty 
paths made by the elk as they filed across the mountain 
side. The grass on all the terraces was trampled down 
by deer; there were numerous tracks of wolves, and, in 10 
some of the rougher and more precipitous parts of the 
ascent, I found foot-prints different from any that I had 
ever seen, and which I took to be those of the Rocky 
Mountain sheep. I sat down upon a rock; there was a 
perfect stillness. No wind was stirring, and not even an 15 
insect could be heard. I recollected the danger of be- 
coming lost in such a place, and therefore I fixed my eye 
upon one of the tallest pinnacles of the opposite moun- 
tain. It rose sheer upright from the woods below, and 
by an extraordinary freak of nature sustained aloft on 20 
its very summit a large loose rock. Such a landmark 
could never be mistaken, and feeling once more secure, 
I began again to move forward. A white wolf jumped 
up from among some bushes, and leaped clumsily away; 
but he stopped for a moment, and turned back his keen 25 
eye and his grim bristling muzzle. I longed to take his 
scalp and carry it back with me, as an appropriate trophy 
of the Black Hills, but before I could fire, he was gone 
among the rocks. Soon after I heard a rustling sound, 
with a cracking of twigs at a little distance, and saw 30 
moving above the tall bushes the branching antlers of an 
elk. I was in the midst of a hunter's paradise. 

Such are the Black Hills, as I found them in July; but 
they wear a different garb when winter sets in, when the 
broad boughs of the fir tree are bent to the ground by 35 
the load of snow, and the dark mountains are whitened 
with it. At that season the mountain-trappers, returned 
from their autumn expeditions, often build their rude 



248 The Oregon Trail 



cabins in the midst of these solitudes, and live in abun- 
dance and luxury on the game that harbors there. I have 
heard them relate how, v^^ith their tawny mistresses, and 
perhaps a few young Indian companions, they have spent 

5 months in total seclusion. They would dig pitfalls and set 
traps for the white wolves, the sables, and the martens, 
and though through the whole night the awful chorus? 
of the wolves would resound from the frozen mountains 
around them, yet within their massive walls of logs 

10 uhey would lie in careless ease and comfort before the 
blazing fire, and in the morning shoot the elk and the deer 
from their very door. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

A MOUNTAIN HUNT 

" Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? 
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, 
Being native burghers of this desert city. 
Should in their own confines, with forked heads, 
Have their round haunches gored." 

As You Like It. 

The camp v^as full of the nev^ly-cut lodge-poles; some, 
already prepared, were stacked together, w^hite and glisten- 
ing, to dry and harden in the sun; others were lying 
on the ground, and the squaws, the boys, and even some 
of the warriors, were busily at work peeling off the bark 5 
and paring them with their knives to the proper dimen- 
sions. Most of the hides obtained at the last camp were 
dressed and scraped thin enough for use, and many of 
the squaws were engaged in fitting them together and 
sewing them with sinews, to form the coverings for the 10 
lodges. Men were wandering among the bushes that 
lined the brook along the margin of the camp, cutting 
sticks of red willow, or shongsasha, the bark of which, 
mixed with tobacco, they use for smoking. Reynal's 
squaw was hard at work with her awl and buffalo-sinews 15 
upon her lodge, while her proprietor, having just finished 
an enormous breakfast of meat, was smoking a social 
pipe along with Raymond and myself. He proposed at 
length that we should go out on a hunt. " Go to the Big 
Crow's lodge," said he, " and get your rifle. I'll bet the 20 
gray Wyandot pony against your mare that we start an 
elk or a black-tailed deer, or likely as not a big-horn, be- 
fore we are two miles out of camp. I'll take my squaw's 
old yellow horse ; you can't whip her more than four miles 
an hour, but she is as good for the mountains as a mule." 25 

249 



250 The Oregon Trail 

I mounted the black mule which Raymond usually rode. 
She was a very fine and powerful animal, gentle and 
manageable enough by nature; but of late her temper had 
been soured by misfortune. About a week before I had 
5 chanced to offend some one of the Indians, who out of 
revenge went secretly into the meadow and gave her a 
severe stab in the haunch with his knife. The wound, 
though partially healed, still galled her extremely, and 
made her even more perverse and obstinate than the rest 

10 of her species. 

The morning was a glorious one, and I was in better 
health than I had been at any time for the last two 
months. Though a strong frame and well-compacted 
sinews had borne me through hitherto, it was long since 

15 I had been in a condition to feel the exhilaration of the 
fresh mountain-wind and the gay sunshine that bright- 
ened the crags and trees. We left the little valley and 
ascended a rocky hollow in the mountain. Very soon 
we were out of sight of the camp and of every living 

,20 thing, man, beast, bird, or insect. I had never before, 
except on foot, passed over such execrable ground, and 
I desire never to repeat the experiment. The black mule 
grew indignant, and even the redoubtable yellow horse 
stumbled every moment, and kept groaning to himself 

25 as he cut his feet and legs among the sharp rocks. 

It was a scene of silence and desolation. Little was 
visible except beetling crags and the bare shingly sides 
of the mountains, relieved by scarcely a trace of vegeta- 
tion. At length, however, we came upon a forest tract, 

30 and had no sooner done so than we heartily wished our- 
selves back among the rocks again; for we were on a 
steep descent, among trees so thick that we could see 
scarcely a rod in any direction. 

If one is anxious to place himself in a situation where 

35 the hazardous and the ludicrous are combined in about 
equal proportions, let him get upon a vicious mule, with 
a snaffle-bit, and try to drive her through the woods down 
a slope of forty-five degrees. Let him have a long rifle, 



A Mountain Hunt 251 

a buckskin frock with long fringes, and a head of long 
hair. These latter appehdages will be caught every 
moment and twitched away in small portions by the twigs, 
which will also whip him smartly across the face, while 
the large branches above thump him on the head. His 5 
mule, if she be a true one, will alternately stop short and 
dive violently forward, and his positions upon her back 
will be somewhat diversified and extraordinary. At one 
time he wilh clasp her affectionately, to avoid the blow 
of a bough overhead; at another, he will throw himself IC 
back and fling his knee forward against the side of her 
neck, to keep it from being crushed between the rough 
bark of a tree and the equally unyielding ribs of the 
animal herself. Reynal was cursing incessantly during the 
whole way down. Neither of us had the remotest idea 15 
where we were going; and though I have seen rough rid- 
ing, I shall always retain an evil recollection of that 
five minutes' scramble. 

At last we left our troubles behind us, emerging into 
the channel of a brook that circled along the foot of the 20 
descent; and here, turning joyfully to the left, we rode 
in luxury and ease over the white pebbles and the rip- 
pling water, shaded from the glaring sun by an overarch- 
ing green transparency. These halcyon moments were 
of short duration. The friendly brook, turning sharply 25 
to one side, went brawling and foaming down the rocky 
hill into an abyss which, as far as we could discern, had 
no bottom; so once more we betook ourselves to the 
detested woods. When next we came forth from their 
dancing shadow and sunlight, we found ourselves stand- TO 
ing in the broad glare of day, on a high jutting point of 
the mountain. Before us stretched a long, wide, desert 
valley, winding away far amid the mountains. No civi- 
lized eye but mine had ever looked upon that virgin waste. 
Reynal was gazing intently ; he began to speak at last : 35 

" Many a time, when I was with the Indians, I have 
been hunting for gold all through the Black Hills. There*s 
plenty of it here; you may be certain of that. I have 



252 The Oregon Trail 



dreamed about it fifty times, and I never dreamed yet 
hut what it came out true. Look over yonder at those 
black rocks piled up against that other big rock. Don't 
it look as if there might be something there? It won't 
6 do for a white man to be rummaging too much about 
these mountains; the Indians say they are full of bad 
spirits; and I believe myself that it's no good luck to be 
hunting about here after gold. Well, for all that, I would 
like to have one of these fellows up here fronVdown below, 

10 to go about with his witch-hazel rod, and I'll guarantee 
that it would not be long before he would light on a gold- 
mine. Never mind; we'll let the gold alone for to-day. 
Look at those trees down below us in the hollow; we'll 
go down there, and I reckon we'll get a black-tailed deer." 

15 But Reynal's predictions were not verified. We passed 
mountain after mountain, and valley after valley; we 
explored deep ravines; yet still, to my companion's vexa- 
tion and evident surprise, no game could be found. So, 
in the absence of better, we resolved to go out on the 

20 plains and look for an antelope. With this view we began 
to pass down a narrow valley, the bottom of which was 
covered with the stiff wild-sage bushes, and marked with 
deep paths made by the buffalo, who, for some inexplic- 
able reason, are accustomed to penetrate, in their long 

25 grave processions, deep among the gorges of these sterile 
mountains. 

Reynal's eye was ranging incessantly among the rocks 
and along the edges of the black pretipices, in hopes of 
discovering the mountain-sheep peering down upon us in 

30 fancied security from that giddy elevation. Nothing was 
visible for some time. At length we both detected some- 
thing in motion near the foot of one of the mountains, 
and in a moment afterward a black-tailed deer, with his 
spreading antlers, stood gazing at us from the top of a 

35 rock, and then, slowly turning away, disappeared behind 
it. In an instant Reynal was out of his saddle, and run- 
ning toward the spot. I, being too weak to follow, sat 
holding his horse and waiting the result. I lost sight of 



A Mountain Hunt 253 

him, then heard the report of his rifle deadened among 
the rocks, and finally saw him reappear, with a surly 
look, that plainly betrayed his ill success. Again we 
moved forward down the long valley, when soon after we 
came full upon what seemed a wide and very shallow 5 
ditch, incrusted at the bottom with white clay, dried and 
cracked in the sun. Under this fair outside, Reynal's eye 
detected the signs of lurking mischief. He called me to 
stop, and then alighting, picked up a stone and threw it 
into the ditch. To my utter amazement it fell with a dull 10 
splash, breaking at once through the thin crust, and spat- 
tering round the hole a yellowish creamy fluid, into which 
it sank and disappeared. A stick, five or six feet long, 
lay on the ground, and with this we sounded the insidious 
abyss close to its edge. It was just possible to touch the 15 
bottom. Places like this are numerous among the Rocky 
Mountains. The buffalo, in his blind and heedless walk, 
often plunges into them unawares. Down he sinks; one 
snort of terror, one convulsive struggle, and the slime 
calmly flows above his shaggy head, the liquid undulations 20 
of its sleek and placid surface alone betraying how the 
powerful monster writhes in his death-throes below. 

We found after some trouble a point where we could 
pass the abyss, and now the valley began to open upon 
the plains which spread to the horizon before us. On 25 
one of their distant swells we discerned three or four 
black specks, which Reynal pronounced to be buffalo. 

" Come," said he, " we must get one of them. My 
squaw wants more sinews to finish her lodge with, and I 
want some glue myself." 30 

He immediately put the yellow horse to such a gallop 
as he was capable of executing, while I set spurs to the 
mule, who soon far out ran her plebian rival. When we 
had galloped a mile or more, a large rabbit, by ill luck, 
sprang up just under the feet of the mule, who bounded 35 
violently aside in full career. Weakened as I was, I was 
flung forcibly to the ground, and my rifle, falling close to 
my head, went off with the shock. Its sharp, spiteful 



254 ^^^ Oregon Trail 

report rang for some moments in my ear. Being slightly 
stunned, I lay for an instant motionless, and Reynal, 
supposing me to be shot, rode up and began to curse the 
mule. Soon recovering myself, I arose, picked up the 
5 rifle, and anxiously examined it. It was badly injured. 
The stock was cracked and the main screw broken, so 
that the lock had to be tied in its place with a string; 
yet happily it was not rendered totally unserviceable. 
I wiped it out, reloaded it, and handing it to Reynal, who 

10 meanwhile had caught the mule and led her up to me, I 
mounted again. No sooner had I done so, than the brute 
began to rear and plunge with extreme violence; but 
being now well prepared for her, and free from incum- 
brance, I soon reduced her to submission. Then taking 

15 the rifle again from Reynal, we galloped forward as 
before. 

We were now free of the mountains and riding far out 
on the broad prairie. The buffalo were still some two 
miles in advance of us. When we came near them, we 

20 stopped where a gentle swell of the plain concealed us 
from their view, and while I held his horse, Reynal ran 
forward with his rifle, till I lost sight of him beyond the 
rising ground. A few minutes elapsed ; I heard the report 
of his piece, and saw the buffalo running away at full 

25 speed on the right, and immediately after the hunter him- 
self, unsuccessful as before, came up and mounted his 
horse in excessive ill humor. He cursed the Black Hills 
and the buffalo, swore that he was a good hunter, which 
indeed was true, and that he had never been out before 

30 among those mountains without killing two or three deer 
at least. 

We now turned toward the distant encampment. As 
we rode along, antelope in considerable numbers were 
flying lightly in all directions over the plains, but not one 

35 of them would stand and be shot at. When we reached 
the foot of the mountain-ridge that lay between us and 
the village, we were too impatient to take the smooth 
and circuitous route ; so turning short to the left, we drove 



A Mountain Hunt 255 

our wearied animals directly upward among the rocks. 
Still more antelope were leaping about among these 
flinty hill-sides. Each of us shot at one, though from a 
great distance, and each missed his mark. At length we 
reached the summit of the last ridge. Looking down, we 5 
saw the bustling camp in the valley at our feet, and 
ingloriously descended to it. As we rode among the 
lodges, the Indians looked in vain for the fresh meat that 
should have hung behind our saddles, and the squaws 
uttered various suppressed ejaculations, to the great indig- 10 
nation of Reynal. Our mortification was increased when 
we rode up to his lodge. Here we saw his young Jndian 
relative, the Hail-Storm, his light graceful figure reclin- 
ing on the ground in an easy attitude, while with his 
friend, the Rabbit, who sat by his side, he was making 15 
an abundant meal from a wooden bowl of wasna, which 
the squaw had placed between them. Near him lay the 
fresh skin of a female elk, which he had just killed among 
the mountains only a mile or two from the camp. No 
doubt the boy's heart was elated with triumph, but he 20 
betrayed no sign of it. He even seemed totally uncon- 
scious of our approach, and his handsome face had all the 
tranquillity of Indian self-control; a self-control which 
prevents the exhibition of emotion without restraining 
the emotion itself. It was about two months since I had 25 
known the Hail-Storm, and within that time his char- 
acter had remarkably developed. When I first saw him 
he was just emerging from the habits and feelings of the 
boy into the ambition of the hunter and warrior. He 
had lately killed his first deer, and this had excited his 30 
aspirations after distinction. Since that time he had been 
continually in search of game, and no young hunter in 
the village had been so active or so fortunate as he. It 
will perhaps be remembered how fearlessly he attacked 
the buffalo-bull as we were moving toward our camp at 35 
the Medicine-Bow Mountain. All this success has pro- 
duced a marked change in his character. As I first re- 
membered him he always shunned the society of the 



256 The Oregon Trail 

young squaws, and was extremely bashful and sheepish 
in their presence; but now, in the confidence of his own 
reputation, he began to assume the airs and the arts of 
a man of gallantry. He wore his red blanket dashingly 
5 over his left shoulder, painted his cheeks every day with 
vermilion, and hung pendants of shells in his ears. If 
I observed aright, he met with very good success in his 
new pursuits; still the Hail-Storm had much to accom- 
plish before he attained the full standing of a warrior. 

10 Gallantly as he began to bear himself among the women 
and girls, he still was timid and abashed in the presence 
of the chiefs and old men; for he had never yet killed a 
man or stricken the dead body of an enemy in battle. 
I have no doubt that the handsome smooth-faced boy 

15 burned with a keen desire to flesh his maiden scalping- 
knife, and I would not have encamped alone with him 
without watching his movements with a distrustful eye. 

His elder brother, the Horse, was of a different char- 
acter. He was nothing but a lazy dandy. He knew very 

20 well how to hunt, but preferred to live by the hunting of 
others. He had no appetite for distinction, and the Hail- 
Storm, though a few years younger than he, already 
surpassed him in reputation. He had a dark and ugly 
face, and he passed a great part of his time in adorning it 

25 with vermilion, and contemplating it by means of a little 
pocket looking-glass which I gave him. As for the rest 
of the day, he divided it between eating and sleeping and 
fitting in the sun on the outside of a lodge. Here he 
would remain for hour after hour, arrayed in all his 

30 nnery, with an old dragoon's sword in his hand, and 
evidently flattering himself that he was the centre of 
attraction to the eyes of the surrounding squaws. Yet he 
sat looking straight forward with a face of the utmost 
gravity, as if wrapped in profound meditation, and it was 

35 only by the occasional sidelong glances which he shot at 
his supposed admirers that one could detect the true 
course of his thoughts. 

Both he and his brother may represent a class in the 



A Mountain Hunt 257 

Indian community ; neither should the Hail-Storm's friend, 
the Rabbit, be passed by without notice. The Hail- 
Storm and he were inseparable; they ate, slept, and 
hunted together, and shared with one another almost all 
that they possessed. If there be anything that deserves 5 
to be called romantic in the Indian character, it is to be 
sought for in friendships such as this, which are quite 
common among many of the prairie-tribes. 

Slowly, hour after hour, that weary afternoon dragged 
away. I lay in Reynal's lodge, overcome by the listless 10 
torpor that pervaded the whole encampment. The day's 
work was finished, or if it were not, the inhabitants 
had resolved not to finish it at all, and all were dozing 
quietly within the shelter of the lodges. A profound 
lethargy, the very spirit of indolence, seemed to have 15 
sunk upon the village. Now and then I could hear the 
low laughter of some girl from within a neighboring 
lodge, or the small shrill voices of a few restless children, 
who alone were moving in the deserted area. The spirit 
of the place infected me ; I could not even think con- 20 
secutively; I was fit only for musing and reverie, when 
at last, like the rest, I fell asleep. 

When evening came, and the fires were lighted round 
the lodges, a select family circle convened in the neigh- 
borhood of Reynal's domicile. It was composed entirely 25 
of his squaw's relatives, a mean and ignoble clan, among 
whom none but the Hail-Storm held forth any promise 
of future distinction. Even his prospects were rendered 
not a little dubious by the character of the family, less, 
however, from any principle of aristocratic distinction 30 
than from the want of powerful supporters to assist him 
in his undertakings, and help to avenge his quarrels. 
Raymond and I sat down along with them. There were 
eight or ten men gathered around the fire, together with 
about as many women, old and young, some of whom 35 
were tolerably good-looking. As the pipe passed around 
among the men, a lively conversation went forward, more 
merry than delicate, and at length two or three of the 



258 The Oregon Trail 

elder women (for the girls were somewhat diffident and 
bashful) began to assail Raymond with various pungent 
witticisms. Some of the men took part, and an old 
squaw concluded by bestowing on him a ludicrous nick- 

5 name, at which a general laugh followed at his expense. 
Raymond grinned and giggled, and made several futile 
attempts at repartee. Knowing the impolicy and even 
danger of suffering myself to be placed in a ludicrous 
light among the Indians, I maintained a rigid inflexible 

10 countenance, and wholly escaped their sallies. 

In the morning I found, to my great disgust, that 
the camp was to retain its position for another day. I 
dreaded its languor and monotony, and to escape it 
I set out to explore the surrounding mountains. I was 

15 accompanied by a faithful friend, my rifle, the only 
friend, indeed, on whose prompt assistance in time of 
trouble I could implicitly rely. Most of the Indians in 
the village, it is true, professed good will toward the 
whites, but the experience of others and my own obser- 

20 vation had taught me the extreme folly of confidence, 
and the utter impossibility of foreseeing to what sudden 
acts the strange unbridled impulses of an Indian may urge 
him. When among this people danger is never so near 
as when you are unprepared for it, never so remote as 

25 when you are armed and on the alert to meet it at any 
moment. Nothing offers so strong a temptation to their 
ferocious instincts as the appearance of timidity, weak- 
ness, or insecurity. 

Many deep and gloomy gorges, choked with trees and 

30 bushes, opened from the sides of the hills, which were 
shaggy with forests wherever the rocks permitted vege- 
tation to spring. A great number of Indians were stalking 
along the edges of the woods, and boys were whooping 
and laughing on the mountain-sides, practising eye and 

35 hand, and indulging their destructive propensities by fol- 
• lowing birds and small animals and killing them with 
their little bows and arrows. There was one glen stretch- 
ing up between steep cliffs far into the bosom of the 



A Mountain Hunt 259 

mountain. I began to ascend along its bottom, pushing 
my way onward among the rocks, trees, and bushes that 
obstructed it. A slender thread of water trickled along 
its centre, which since issuing from the heart of its 
native rock could scarcely have been warmed or glad- 5 
dened by a ray of sunshine. After advancing for some 
time, I conceived myself to be entirely alone; but coming 
to a part of the glen in a great measure free of trees and 
undergrowth, I saw at some distance the black head and 
red shoulders of an Indian among the bushes above. The 10 
reader need not prepare himself for a startling adventure, 
for I have none to relate. The head and shoulders be- 
longed to Mene-Seela, my best friend in the village. As 
I had approached noiselessly with my moccasined feet, 
the old man was quite unconscious of my presence; and 15 
turning to a point where I could gain an unobstructed 
view of him, I saw him seated alone, immovable as a 
statue, among the rocks and trees. His face was turned 
upward, and his eyes seemed riveted on a pine tree 
springing from a cleft in the precipice above. The crest 20 
of the pine was swaying to and fro in the wind, and its 
long limbs waved slowly up and down, as if the tree had 
life. Looking for a while at the old man, I was satisfied 
that he was engaged in an act of worship or prayer, or 
communion of some kind with a supernatural being. I 25 
longed to penetrate his thoughts, but I could do nothing 
more than conjecture and speculate. I knew that though 
the intellect of an Indian can embrace the idea of an all- 
wise, all-powerful Spirit, the Supreme Ruler of the uni- 
verse, yet his mind will not always ascend into com- 30 
munion with a being that seems to him so vast, remote, 
and incomprehensible; and when danger threatens, when 
his hopes are broken, when the black wing of sorrow 
overshadows him, he is prone to turn for relief to some 
inferior agency less removed from the ordinary scope of 35 
his faculties. He has a guardian spirit on whom he relies 
for succor and guidance. To him all nature is instinct 
with mystic influence. Among those mountains not a 



26o The Oregon Trail 

wild beast was prowling, a bird singing, or a leaf flutter- 
ing, that might not tend to direct his destiny or give 
warning of what was in store for him; and he watches 
the world of nature around him as the astrologer watches 
5 the stars. So closely is he linked with it that his guardian 
spirit, no unsubstantial creation of the fancy, is usually 
embodied in the form of some living thing: a bear, a wolf, 
an eagle, or a serpent; and Mene-Seela, as he gazed 
intently on the old pine tree, might believe it to inshrine 

10 the fancied guide and protector of his life. 

Whatever was passing in the mind of the old man, it 
was no part of sense or of delicacy to disturb him. Si- 
lently retracing my footsteps, I descended the glen until 
I came to a point where I could climb the steep precipices 

15 that shut it in, and gain the side of the mountain. Look- 
ing up, I saw a tall peak rising among the wood. Some- 
thing impelled me to clirnb; I had not felt for many a 
day such strength and elasticity of limb. An hour and 
a half of slow and often intermitted labor brought me 

20 to the very summit ; and emerging from the dark shadows 
of the rocks and pines, I stepped forth into the light, 
and walking along the sunny verge of a precipice, seated 
myself on its extreme point. Looking between the 
mountain-peaks to the westward, the pale blue prairie 

25 was stretching to the farthest horizon like a serene and 
tranquil ocean. The surrounding mountains were in 
themselves sufficiently striking and impressive, but this 
contrast gave redoubled effect to their stern features. 



CHAPTER XIX 

PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 

"Dear Nature is the kindest mother still, 
Though always changing, in her aspect mild; 
From her bare bosom let rtie take my fill, 
Her never-weaned, though not her favored child. 
O, she is fairest in her features wild, 
When nothing polished dares pollute her path; 
On me by day and night she ever smiled, 
Though I have marked her where none other hath, 
And sought her more and more, and loved her best in 
wrath." 

Childe Harold. 

When I took leave of Shaw at La Bonte's camp, I 
promised that I would meet him at Fort Laramie on the 
first of August. That day, according to my reckoning, 
was now close at hand. It was impossible, at best, to 
fulfil my engagement exactly, and my meeting with him 5 
must have been postponed until many days after the 
appointed time, had not the plans of the Indians very 
well coincided with my own. They, too, intended to 
pass the mountains and move toward the fort. To do so 
at this point was impossible, because there was no open- 10 
ing; and in order to find a passage we were obliged to go 
twelve or fourteen miles southward. Late in the after- 
noon the camp got in motion, defiling back through the 
mountains along the same narrow passage by which they 
had entered. I rode in company with three or four young 15 
Indians at the rear, and the moving swarm stretched 
before me in the ruddy light of sunset, or in the deep 
shadow of the mountains, far beyond my sight. It was 
an ill-omened spot they chose to encamp upon. When 
they were there just a year before, a war-party of ten 20 
men, led by the Whirlwind's son, had gone out against 

261 



262 The Oregon Trail 

the enemy, and not one had ever returned. This was 
the immediate cause of this season's warlike preparations. 
I was not a little astonished, when I came to the camp, 
at the confusion of horrible sounds with which it was 

6 filled; howls, shrieks, and wailings were heard from all 
the women present, many of whom, not content with 
this exhibition of grief for the loss of their friends and 
relatives, were gashing their legs deeply with knives. A 
warrior in the village, who had lost a brother in the 

10 expedition, chose another mode of displaying his sorrow. 
The Indians, who, though often rapacious, are utterly 
devoid of avarice, are accustomed in times of mourning, 
or on other solemn occasions, to give away the whole of 
their possessions, and reduce themselves to nakedness and 

15 want. The warrior in question led his two best horses 

into the centre of the village and gave them away to his 

friends; upon which songs and acclamations in praise of 

his generosity mingled with the cries of the women. 

On the next morning we entered once more among the 

20 mountains. There was nothing in their appearance either 
grand or picturesque, though they were desolate to the 
last degree, being mere piles of black and broken rocks 
without trees or vegetation of any kind. As we passed 
among them along a wide valley, I noticed Raymond rid- 

25 ing by the side of a young squaw, to whom he was address- 
ing various insinuating compliments. All the old squaws 
in the neighborhood watched his proceeding in great 
admiration, and the girl herself would turn aside her head 
and laugh. Just then the old mule thought proper to 

30 display her vicious pranks ; she began to rear and plunge 
most furiously. Raymond was an excellent rider, and at 
first he stuck fast in his seat, but the moment after I saw 
the mule's hind-legs flourishing in the air, and my unlucky 
follower pitching head-foremost over her ears. There was 

35 a burst of screams and laughter from all the women, in 
which his mistress herself took part, and Raymond was 
instantly assailed by such a shower of witticisms that 
he was glad to ride forward out of hearing. 



Passage of the Mountains 263 

Not long after, as I rode near him, I heard him shout- 
ing to me. He was pointing toward a detached rocky 
hill that stood in the middle of the valley before us, and 
from behind it a long file of elk came at full speed and 
entered an opening in the side of the mountain. They 5 
had scarcely disappeared when whoops and exclamations 
came from fifty voices around me. The young men 
leaped from their horses, flung down their heavy buffalo- 
robes, and ran at full speed toward the foot of the nearest 
mountain. Reynal also broke away at a gallop in the 10 
same direction, " Come on ! come on ! " he called to us. 
" Do you see that band of big-horn up yonder? If there's 
one of them, there's a hundred ! " 

In fact, near the summit of the mountain, I could see 
a large number of small white objects, moving rapidly 15 
upward among the precipices, while others were filing 
along its rocky profile. Anxious to see the sport, I gal- 
loped forward, and entering a passage in the side of the 
mountain, ascended among the loose rocks as far as my 
horse could carry me. Here I fastened her to an old pine 20 
tree that stood alone, scorching in the sun. At that mo- 
ment Raymond called to me from the right that another 
band of sheep was close at hand in that direction. I ran 
up to the top of the opening, which gave me a full view 
into the rocky gorge beyond ; and here I plainly saw 25 
some fifty or sixty sheep, almost within rifle-shot, clatter- 
ing upward among the rocks, and endeavoring, after their 
usual custom, to reach the highest point. The naked 
Indians bounded up lightly in pursuit. In a moment the 
game and hunters disappeared. Nothing could be seen 30 
or heard but the occasional report of a gun, more and 
more distant, reverberating among the rocks. 

I turned to descend, and as I did so I could see the 
valley below alive with Indians passing rapidly through 
it, on horseback and on foot. A little farther on, all were 35 
stopping as they came up; the camp was preparing, and 
the lodges rising. I descended to this spot, and soon 
after Reynal and Raymond returned. They bore between 



264 The Oregon Trail 

them a sheep which they had pelted to death with stones 
from the edge of a ravine, along the bottom of which 
it was attempting to escape. One by one the hunters 
came dropping in; yet such is the activity of the Rocky 
5 Mountain sheep, that although sixty or seventy men were 
out in pursuit, not more than half a dozen animals were 
killed. Of these only one was a full grown male. He 
had a pair of horns twisted like a ram's, the dimensions 
of which were almost beyond belief. I have seen among 

10 the Indians ladels with long handles, capable of contain- 
ing more than a quart, cut out from such horns. 

There is something peculiarly interesting in the char- 
acter and habits of the mountain-sheep, whose chosen 
retreats are above the region of vegetation and of storms, 

15 and who leap among the giddy precipices of their aerial 
home as actively as the antelope skims over the prairies 
below. 

Through the whole of the next morning we were mov- 
ing forward among the hills. On the following day the 

20 heights gathered around us, and the passage of the moun- 
tains began in earnest. Before the village left its camp- 
ing-ground, I set forward in company with the Eagle- 
Feather, a man of powerful frame, but of bad and sinister 
face. His son, a light-limbed boy, rode with us, and 

25 another Indian, named the Panther, was also of the party. 
Leaving the village out of sight behind us, we rode 
together up a rocky defile. After a while, however, the 
Eagle-Feather discovered in the distance some appear- 
ance of game, and set off with his son in pursuit of it, 

30 while I went forward with the Panther. This was a mere 
nom de guerre; for, like many Indians, he concealed his 
real name out ot some superstitious notion. He was a 
very noble looking fellow. As he suffered his ornamental 
buffalo-robe to fall in folds about his loins, his stately 

35 and graceful figure was fully displayed ; and while he sat 
his horse in an easy attitude, the long feathers of the 
prairie-cock fluttering from the crown of his head, he 
seemed the very model of a wild prairie-rider. He hadi 



Passage of the Mountains 265 

not the same features with those of other Indians. Unless 
his handsome face greatly belied him, he was free from 
the jealousy, suspicion, and malignant cunning of his 
people. For the most part, a civilized white man can 
discover but very few points of sympathy between his 5 
own nature and that of an Indian. With every disposi- 
tion to do justice to their good qualities, he must be con- 
scious that an impassable gulf lies between him and his 
red brethren of the prairie. Nay, so alien to himself do 
they appear, that having breathed for a few months or a 10 
few weeks the air of this region, he begins to look upon 
them as a troublesome and dangerous species of wild 
beast, and, if expedient, he could shoot them with as 
little compunction as they themselves would experience 
after performing the same office upon him. Yet, in the 15 
countenance of the Panther I gladly read that there were 
at least some points of sympathy between him and me. 
We were excellent friends, and as we rode forward to- 
gether through rocky passages, deep dells, and little 
barren plains, he occupied himself very zealously in teach- 20 
ing me the Dahcotah language. After a while we came 
to a little grassy recess, where some gooseberry-bushes 
were growing at the foot of a rock; and these offered 
such temptation to my companion that he gave over his 
instruction, and stopped so long to gather the fruit that 25 
before we were in motion again the van of the village 
came in view. An old woman appeared, leading down her 
pack-horse among the rocks above. Savage after savage 
followed, and the little dell was soon crowded with the 
throng. 30 

That morning's march was one not easily to be for- 
gotten. It led us through a sublime waste, a wilderness 
of mountains and pine forests, over which the spirit of 
loneliness and silence seemed brooding. Above and below 
little could be seen but the same dark green foliage. It 35 
overspread the valleys, and the mountains were clothed 
with it, from the black rocks that crowned their summits 
to the impetuous streams that circled round th^ir base. 



266 The Oregon Trail 

Scenery like this, it might seem, could have no very cheer- 
ing effect on the mind of a sick man (for to-day my dis- 
ease had again assailed me) in the midst of a horde of sav- 
ages; but if the reader has ever wandered, with a true 
5 hunter's spirit, among the forests of Maine or the more 
picturesque solitudes of the Adirondack Mountains, he 
will understand how the sombre woods and mountains 
around me might have awakened any other feeling than 
those of gloom. In truth they recalled gladdening recol- 

10 lections of similar scenes in a distant and far different 
land. 

After we had been advancing for several hours through 
passages always narrow, often obstructed and difficult, 
I saw at a little distance on our right a narrow opening 

15 between two high, wooded precipices. All within seemed 
darkness and mystery. In the mood in which I found 
myself, something strongly impelled me to enter. Pass- 
ing over the intervening space, I guided my horse through 
the rocky portal, and as I did so, instinctively drew the 

20 covering from my rifle, half expecting that some unknown 
evil lay in Ambush within those dreary recesses. The 
place was shut in among tall cliffs, and so deeply shadowed 
by a host of old pine trees that, though the sun shone 
bright on the side of the mountain, nothing but a dim 

25 twilight could penetrate within. As far as I could see it 
had no tenants except a few hawks and owls, who dis- 
mayed at my intrusion, flapped hoarsely away among the 
shaggy branches. I moved forward, determined to explore 
the mystery to the bottom, and soon became involved 

30 among the pines. The genius of the place exercised a 
strange influence upon my mind. Its faculties were 
stimulated into extraordinary activity, and as I passed 
along many half- forgotten incidents, and the images of 
persons and things far distant, rose rapidly before me with 

35 surprising distinctness. In that perilous wilderness, eight 
hundred miles removed beyond the faintest vestige of 
civilization, the scenes of another hemisphere, the seat of 
ancient refinement, passed before me, more like a sue- 



Passage of the Mountains 267 

cession of vivid paintings than any mere dreams of the 
fancy. I saw the church of St. Peter's illumined on the 
evening of Easter-day, the whole majestic pile from 
the cross to the foundation-stone, pencilled in fire and 
shedding a radiance, like the serene light of the moon, on 5 
the sea of upturned faces below. I saw the peak of Mount 
Etna towering above its inky mantle of clouds, and lightly 
curling its wreaths of milk-white smoke against the soft 
sky, flushed with the Sicilian sunset. I saw also the 
gloomy vaulted passages and the narrow cells of the Pas- 10 
sionist convent, where I once had sojourned for a few 
days with the fanatical monks, its pale stern inmates, in 
their robes of black; and the grated windows from 
whence I could look out, a forbidden indulgence, upon 
the melancholy Coliseum and the crumbling ruins of the 15 
Eternal City. The mighty glaciers of the Splugen, too, 
rose before me, gleaming in the sun like polished silver, 
and those terrible solitudes, the birth-place of the Rhine, 
where, bursting from the bowels of its native mountain, 
it lashes and foams down the rocky abyss into the little 20 
valley of Andeer. These recollections, and many more, 
crowded upon me, until remembering that it was hardly 
wise to remain long in such a place, I mounted again and 
retraced my steps. Issuing from between the rocks, I saw 
a few rods before me the men, women and children, dogs 25 
and horses, still filing slowly across the little glen. A bare 
round hill rose directly above them. I rode to the top, and 
from this point I could look down on the savage procession 
as it passed just beneath my feet, and far on the left I 
could see its thin and broken line, visible only at inter- 30 
vals, stretching away for miles among the mountains. 
On the farthest ridge horsemen were still descending like 
mere specks in the distance. 

I remained on the hill until all had passed, and then, 
descending, followed after them. A little farther on I 35 
found a very small meadow, set deeply among steep 
mountains ; and here the whole village had encamped. The 
little spot was crowded with the confused and disorderly 



268 Thie Oregon Trail 

host. Some of the lodges were already completely pre- 
pared, or the squaws perhaps were busy in drawing the 
heavy coverings of skin over the bare poles. Others 
were as yet mere skeletons, while others still, poles, 
6 covering, and all, lay scattered in complete disorder on the 
ground among buffalo-robes, bales of meat, domestic uten- 
sils, harness, and weapons. Squaws were screaming to 
one another, horses rearing and plunging, dogs yelping, 
eager to be disburdened of their loads, while the fluttering 

10 of feathers and the gleam of barbaric ornaments added 
liveliness to the scene. The small children ran about 
amid the crowd, while many of the boys were scrambling 
among the overhanging rocks, and standing, with their 
little bows in their hands, looking down upon the rest- 

15 less throng. In contrast with the general confusion, a 
circle of old men and warriors sat in the midst, smoking in 
profound indifference and tranquillity. This disorder at 
length subsided. The horses were driven away to feed 
along the adjacent valley, and the camp assumed an air 

20 of listless repose. It was scarcely past noon ; a vast white 
canopy of smoke from a burning forest to the eastward 
overhung the place, and partially obscured the rays of the 
sun; yet the heat was almost insupportable. The lodges 
stood crowded together without order in the narrow space. 

25 Each was a perfect hot-house, within which the lazy pro- 
prietor lay sleeping. The camp was silent as death. 
Nothing stirred except now and then an old woman pass- 
ing from lodge to lodge. The girls and young men sat 
together in groups under the pine trees upon the sur- 

30 rounding heights. The dogs lay panting on the ground, 
too lazy even to growl at the white man. At the entrance 
of the meadow there was a cold spring among the rocks, 
completely overshadowed by tall trees and dense under- 
growth. In this cool and shady retreat a number of the 

35 girls were assembled, sitting together on rocks and fallen 
logs, discussing the latest gossip of the village, or laugh- 
ing and throwing water with their hands at the intruding 
Meneaska. The minutes seemed lengthened into hours. 



Passage of the Mountains 269 

I lay for a long time under a tree, studying the Ogillallah 
tongue with the zealous instruction of my friend the 
Panther. When we were both tired of this, I went and 
lay down by the side of a deep, cool pool formed by the 
water of the spring. A shoal of little fishes of about a 5 
pin's length were playing in it, sporting together, as it 
seemed, very amicably; but on closer observation, I saw 
that they were engaged in a cannibal warfare among 
themselves. Now and then a small one would fall a 
victim, and immediately disappear down the maw of his 10 
voracious conqueror. Every moment, however, the tyrant 
of the pool, a monster about three inches long, with star- 
ing goggle-eyes, would slowly issue forth with quivering 
fins and tail from under the shelving bank. The small 
fry at this would suspend their hostilities, and scatter in 15 
a panic at the appearance of overwhelming force. 

" Soft-hearted philanthropists," thought I, " may sigh 
long for their peaceful millennium; for, from minnows 
up to man, life is an incessant battle." 

Evening approached at last, the tall mountain-tops 20 
around were still gay and bright in sunshine, while our 
deep glen was completely shadowed. I left the camp and 
descended a neighboring hill, whose rocky summit com- 
manded a wide view over the surrounding wilderness. 
The sun was still glaring through the stiff pines on the 25 
ridge of the western mountain. In a moment he was 
gone, and as the landscape rapidly darkened, I turned 
again toward the village. As I descended the hill, the 
howling of wolves and the barking of foxes came up out 
of the dim woods from far and near. The camp was 30 
glowing with a multitude of fires and alive with dusky 
naked figures, whose tall shadows flitted among the sur- 
rounding crags. 

I found a circle of smokers seated in their usual place ; 
that is, on the ground before the lodge of a certain war- 35 
rior, who seemed to be generally known for his social 
qualities. I sat down to smoke a parting pipe with my 
savage frienjds. That day was the first of August, on 



270 The Oregon Trail 



which I had promised to meet Shaw at Fort Laramie. 
The fort was less than two days' journey distant, and 
that my friend need not suffer anxiety on my account, I 
resolved to push forward as rapidly as possible to the 
5 place of meeting. I went to look after the Hail-Storm, 
and having found him, I offered him a handful of hawks'- 
bells and a paper of vermilion, on condition that he would 
guide me in the morning through the mountains within 
sight of Laramie Creek. 

10 The Hail-Storm ejaculated "How!'' and accepted the 
gift. Nothing more was said on either side; the matter 
was settled, and I lay down to sleep in Kongra-Tonga's 
lodge. 

Long before daylight, Raymond shook me by the 

15 shoulder : 

" Everything is ready," he said. 

I went out. The morning was chill, damp, and dark; 
and the whole camp seemed asleep. The Hail-Storm 
sat on horseback before the lodge, and my mare Pauline 

20 and the mule which Raymond rode were picketed near 
it. We saddled and made our other arrangements for 
the journey, but before these were completed the camp 
began to stir, and the lodge-coverings fluttered and rustled 
as the squaws pulled them down in preparation for de- 

25 parture. Just as the light began to appear we left the 
ground, passing up through a narrow opening among 
the rocks which led eastward out of the meadow. Gain- 
ing the top of this passage, I turned round and sat looking 
back upon the camp, dimly visible in the gray light of 

30 the morning. All was alive with the bustle of prepara- 
tion. I turned away, half unwilling to take a final leave 
of my savage associates. We turned to the right, passing 
among rocks and pine trees so dark that for a while we 
could scarcely see our way. The country in front was 

35 wild and broken, half hill, half plain, partly open, and 
partly covered with woods of pine and oak. Barriers of 
lofty mountains encompassed it ; the woods were fresh 
and cool in the early morning; the peaks of the moun- 



Passage of the Mountains 271 

tains were wreathed with mist, and sluggish vapors were 
entangled among the forests upon their sides. At length 
the black pinnacle of the tallest mountain was tipped 
with gold by the rising sun. About that time the Hail- 
Storm, who rode in front, gave a low exclamation. Some 5 
large animal leaped up from among the bushes, and an 
elk, as I thought, his horns thrown back over his neck, 
darted past us across the open space, and bounded like a 
mad thing away among the adjoining pines. Raymond 
v^^as soon out of his saddle, but before he could fire, the 10 
animal was full two hundred yards distant. The ball 
struck its mark, though much too low for mortal effect. 
The elk, however, wheeled in his flight, and ran at full 
speed among the trees, nearly at right angles to his 
former course. I fired and broke his shoulder; still he 15 
moved on, limping down into a neighboring woody hol- 
low, whither the young Indian followed and killed him. 
When we reached the spot we discovered him to be no 
elk, but a black-tailed deer, an animal nearly twice the 
size of the common deer, and quite unknown in the East. 20 
We began to cut him up; the reports of the rifles had 
reached the ears of the Indians, and before our task was 
finished several of them came to the spot. Leaving the 
hide of the deer to the Hail-Storm, we hung as much of 
the meat as we wanted behind our saddles, left the rest 25 
to the Indians, and resumed our journey. Meanwhile 
the village was on its way, and had gone so far that to 
get in advance of it was impossible. Therefore we di- 
rected our course so as to strike its line of march at the 
nearest point. In a short time, through the dark trunks 30 
of the pines, we could see the figures of the Indians as 
they passed. Once more we were among them. They 
were moving with even more than their usual precipita- 
tion, crowded close together in a narrow pass between 
rocks and old pine trees. We were on the eastern descent 35 
of the mountain, and soon came to a rough and difficult 
defile, leading down a very steep declivity. The whole 
swarm poured down together, filling the rocky passage- 



272 The Oregon Trail 

way like some turbulent mountain-stream. The mountains 
before us were on fire, and had been so for weeks. The 
view in front was obscured by a vast dim sea of smoke 
and vapor, while on either hand the tall cliffs, bearing 
5 aloft their crest of pines, thrust their heads boldly through 
it, and the sharp pinnacles and broken ridges of the 
mountains beyond them were faintly traceable as through 
a veil. The scene in itself was most grand and impos- 
ing, but with the savage multitude, the armed warriors, 

10 the naked children, the gayly apparelled girls, pouring" 
impetuously down the heights, it would have formed a 
noble subject for a painter, and only the pen of a Scott 
could have done it justice in description. 

We passed over a burnt tract where the ground was 

15 hot beneath the horses' feet, and between the blazing 
sides of two mountains. Before long we had descended 
to a softer region, where we found a succession of little 
valleys watered by a stream, along the borders of which 
grew an abundance of wild gooseberries and currants, 

20 and the children and many of the men straggled from the 
line of march to gather them as we passed along. Descend- 
ing still farther, the view changed rapidly. The burning 
mountains were behind us, and through the open valleys 
in front we could see the ocean-like prairie, stretching 

25 beyond the sight. After passing through a line of trees 
that skirted the brook, the Indians filed out upon the 
plains. I was thirsty and knelt down by the little stream 
to drink. As I mounted again, I very carelessly left my 
rifle among the grass, and my thoughts being otherwise 

30 absorbed, I rode for some distance before discovering its 
absence. As the reader may conceive, I lost no time in 
turning about and galloping back in search of it. Passing 
the line of Indians, I watched every warrior as he rode 
by me at a canter, and at length discovered my rifle in 

35 the hands of one of them, who; on my approaching to 
claim it, immediately gave it up. Having no other means 
of acknowledging the obligation, I took off one of my 
spurs and gave it to him. He was greatly delighted, look- 



Passage of the Mountains 273 

ing upon it as a distinguished mark of favor, and imme- 
diately held out his foot for me to buckle it on. As soon 
as I had done so, he struck it with all his force into 
the side of his horse, who gave a violent leap. The 
Indian laughed and spurred harder than before. At this 5 
the horse shot away like an arrow, amid the screams and 
laughter of the squaws, and the ejaculations of the men, 
who exclaimed : '' Washtay ! — Good ! " at the potent effect 
of my gift. The Indian had no saddle, and nothing in 
place of a bridle except a leather string tied round the 10 
horse's jaw. The animal was, of course, wholly uncon- 
trollable, and stretched away at full speed over the prairie, 
till he and his rider vanished behind a distant swell. I 
never saw the man again, but I presume no harm came to 
him. An Indian on horse-back has more lives than a cat. 15 

The village encamped on the scorching prairie, close 
to the foot of the mountains. The heat was most intense 
and penetrating. The coverings of the lodgings were 
raised a foot or more from the ground, in order to pro- 
cure some circulation of air ; and Reynal thought proper 20 
to lay aside his trapper's dress of buckskin and assume 
the very scanty costume of an Indian. Thus elegantly 
attired, he stretched himself in his lodge on a buffalo- 
robe, alternately cursing the heat and puffing at the pipe 
which he and I passed between us. There was present also 25 
a select circle of Indian friends and relatives. A small 
boiled puppy was served up as a parting feast, to which 
was added, by way of desert, a wooden bowl of goose- 
berries from the mountains. 

" Look there," said Reynal, pointing out of the open- 30 
ing of his lodge; "do you see that line of buttes about 
fifteen miles off? Well, now do you see that farthest 
one, with the white speck on the face of it? Do you think 
you ever saw it before? " 

" It looks to me," said I, " like the hill that we were 35 
camped under when we were on Laramie Creek, six or 
eight weeks ago." 

" You've hit it," answered Reynal. 



274 The Oregon Trail 

" Go, and bring in the animals, Raymond," said I ; 
" we'll camp there to-night, and start for the fort in the 
morning." 

The mare and the mule were soon before the lodge. 

5 We saddled them, and in the meantime a number of In- 
dians collected about us. The virtues of Pauline, my 
strong, fleet, hardy little mare, were well known in 
camp, and several of the visitors were mounted upon 
good horses which they had brought me as presents. I 

10 promptly declined their offers, since accepting them would 
have involved the necessity of transferring poor Pauline 
into their barbarous hands. We took leave of Reynal, 
but not of the Indians, who are accustomed to dispense 
with such superfluous ceremonies. Leaving the camp, we 

15 rode straight over the prairie toward the white-faced bluff, 
whose pale ridges swelled gently against the horizon like 
a cloud. An Indian went with us, whose name I forget, 
though the ugliness of his face and the ghastly width 
of his mouth dwell vividly in my recollection. The ante- 

20 lope were numerous, but we did not heed them. We rode 
directly toward our destination, over the arid plains and 
barren hills; until, late in the afternoon, half-spent with 
heat, thirst, and fatigue, we saw a gladdening sight, the 
long line of trees and the deep gulf that mark the course 

25 of Laramie Creek. Passing through the growth of huge 
dilapidated old cotton-wood trees that bordered the creek, 
we rode across to the other side. The rapid and foaming 
waters were filled with fish, playing and splashing in the 
shallows. As we gained the farther bank, our horses 

30 turned eagerly to drink, and we, kneeling on the sand, 
followed their example. We had not gone far before the 
scene began to grow familiar. 
" We are getting near home, Raymond," said I. 
There stood the big tree under which we had encamped 

35 so long ; there were the white cliffs that used to look down 
upon our tent when it stood at the bend of the creek; 
there was the meadow in which our horses had grazed 
for weeks, and a little farther on, the prairie-dog village 



Passage of the Mountains 275 

where I had beguiled many a languid hour in persecuting 
the unfortunate inhabitants. 

" We are going to catch it now," said Raymond, turn- 
ing his broad, vacant face up toward the sky. 

In truth, the landscape, the cliffs, and the meadow, 5 
the stream and the groves, were darkening fast. Black 
masses of cloud were swelling up in the south, and the 
thunder was growling ominously. 

" We will camp there," I said, pointing to a dense grove 
of trees lower down the stream. Raymond and I turned 10 
toward it, but the Indian stopped and called earnestly 
after us. When we demanded what was the matter, he 
said that the ghosts of two warriors were always among 
those trees, and that if we slept there they would scream 
and throw stones at us all night, and perhaps steal our 15 
horses before morning. Thinking it as well to humor 
him, we left behind us the haunt of these extraordinary 
ghosts, and passed on toward Chugwater, riding at full 
gallop, for the big drops began to patter down. Soon we 
came in sight of the poplar saplings that grew about the 20 
mouth of the little stream. We leaped to the ground, 
threw off our saddles, turned our horses loose, and, draw- 
ing our knives, began to slash among the bushes to cut 
twigs and branches for making a shelter against the rain. 
Bending down the taller saplings, as they grew, we piled 25 
the young shoots upon them, and thus made a convenient 
pent-house; but all our labor was useless. The storm 
scarcely touched us. Half a mile on our right the rain 
was pouring down like a cataract, and the thunder roared 
over the prairie like a battery of cannon ; while we, by 30 
good fortune, received only a few heavy drops from the 
skirt of the passing cloud. The weather cleared and the 
sun set gloriously. Sitting close under our leafy canopy, 
we proceeded to discuss a substantial meal of wasna 
which Weah-Washtay had given me. The Indian had 35 
brought with him his pipe and a bag of Shongsasha; so 
before lying down to sleep, we sat for some time smoking 
together. Previously, however, our wide-mouthed friend 



276 The Oregon Trail 

had taken the precaution of carefully examining the 
neighborhood. He reported that eight men, counting 
them on his fingers, had been encamped there not long 
before. Bisonette, Paul Dorion, Antoine Le Rouge, 

5 Richardson, and four others, whose names he could not 
tell. All this proved strictly correct. By what instinct 
he had arrived at such accurate conclusions, I am utterly 
at a loss to divine. 

It was still quite dark when I awoke and called Ray- 

10 mond. The Indian was already gone, having chosen to go 
on before us to the fort. Setting out after him, we rode 
for some time in complete darkness, and when the sun at 
length rose, glowing like a fiery ball of copper, we were 
ten miles distant from the fort. At length, from the 

15 broken summit of a tall sandy bluff, we could see Fort 
Laramie, miles before us, standing by the side of the 
stream, like a little gray speck in the midst of the bound- 
less desolation. I stopped my horse and sat for a moment 
looking down upon it. It seemed to me the very centre of 

20 comfort and civilization. We were not long in approach- 
ing it, for we rode at speed the greater part of the way. 
Laramie Creek still intervened between us and the friendly 
walls. Entering the water at the point where we had struck 
upon the bank, we raised our feet to the saddle behind 

25 us, and thus, kneeling as it were on horse-back, passed 
dry-shod through the swift current. As we rode up the 
bank, a number of men appeared in the gateway. Three 
of them came forward to meet us. In a moment I dis- 
tinguished Shaw; Henry Chatillon followed with his face 

30 of manly simplicity and frankness, and Deslauriers came 
last, with a broad grin of welcome. The meeting was 
not on either side one of mere ceremony. For my own 
part, the change was a most agreeable one from the society 
of savages and men little better than savages, to that of 

35 my gallant and high-minded companion and our noble- 
hearted guide. My appearance was equally gratifying to 
Shaw, who was beginning to entertain some very uncom- 
fortable surmises concerning me. 



Passage of the Mountains 277 

Bordeaux greeted me very cordially, and shouted to the 
cook. This functionary was a new acquisition, having 
lately come from Fort Pierre with the trading-wagons. 
Whatever skill he might have boasted, he had not the 
most promising materials to exercise it upon. He set 5 
before me, however, a breakfast of biscuit, coffee, and 
salt pork. It seemed like a new phase of existence to be 
seated once more on a bench, with a knife and fork, a 
plate and tea-cup, and something resembling a table 
before me. The coffee seemed delicious, and the bread 10 
was a most welcome novelty, since for three weeks I had 
eaten scarcely anything but meat, and that for the most 
part without salt. The meal also had the relish of good 
company, for opposite to me sat Shaw in elegant disha- 
bille. If one is anxious thoroughly to appreciate the 15 
value of a congenial companion, he has only to spend a 
few weeks by himself in an Ogillallah village. And if he 
can contrive to add to his seclusion a debilitating and 
somewhat critical illness, his perceptions upon this sub- 
ject will be rendered considerably more vivid. 20 

Shaw had been upward of two weeks at the fort. I 
found him established in his old quarters, a large apart- 
ment usually occupied by the absent bourgeois. In one 
corner was a soft and luxurious pile of excellent buffalo- 
robes, and here I lay down. Shaw brought me three 25 
books. 

" Here," said he, " is your Shakespeare and Byron, and 
here is the Old Testament, which has as much poetry in 
it as the other two put together." 

I chose the worst of the three, and for the greater 30 
part of that day I lay on the buffalo-robes, fairly revelling 
in the creations of that resplendent genius which has 
achieved no more signal triumph than that of half be- 
guiling us to forget the pitiful and unmanly character of 
its possessor. 35 



CHAPTER XX 

THE LONELY JOURNEY 

" Of antres vast, and deserts idle, 
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven." 

Othello. 

On the day of my arrival at Fort Laramie, Shaw and I 
were lounging on two buffalo-robes in the large apart- 
ment hospitably assigned to us ; Henry Chatillon also was 
present, busy about the harness and weapons, which had 

5 been brought into the room, and two or three Indians 
were crouching on the floor, eyeing us with their fixed 
unwavering gaze. 

" I have been well off here," said Shaw, " in all respects 
but one; there is no good shongsasha to be had for love 

10 or money." 

I gave him a small leather bag containing some of 
excellent quality, which I had brought from the Black 
Hills. " Now, Henry," said he , " hand me Papin's 
chopping-board, or give it to that Indian, and let him 

15 cut the mixture ; they understand it better than any white 
man." 

The Indian, without saying a word, mixed the bark and 
the tobacco in due proportions, filled the pipe, and lighted 
it. This done, my companion and I proceeded to deliberate 

20 on our future course of proceeding; first, however, Shaw 
acquainted me with some incidents which had occurred 
at the fort during my absence. 

About a week previous four men had arrived from 
beyond the mountains : Sublette, Reddick, and two others. 

25 Just before reaching the fort they had met a large party 
of Indians, chiefly young men. All of them belonged to 
the village of our old friend Smoke, who, with his whole 

278 



The Lonely Journey 279 

band of adherents, professed the greatest friendship for 
the whites. The travellers therefore approached and be- 
gan to converse without the least suspicion. Suddenly, 
however, their bridles were violently seized, and they were 
ordered to dismount. Instead of complying, they struck 5 
their horses with full force and broke away from the 
Indians. As they galloped off they heard a yell behind 
them, mixed with a burst of derisive laughter, and the 
reports of several guns. None of them was hurt, though 
Reddick's bridle-rein was cut by a bullet within an inch 10 
of his hand. After this taste of Indian hostility they felt 
for the moment no disposition to encounter farther risks. 
They intended to pursue the route southward along the 
foot of the mountains to Bent's Fort; and as our plans 
coincided with theirs, they proposed to join forces. Find- 15 
ing, however, that I did not return, they grew impatient 
of inaction, forgot their late escape, and set out without 
us, promising to wait our arrival at Bent's Fort. From 
thence we were to make the long journey to the settlements 
in company, as the path was not a little dangerous, being 20 
infested by hostile Pawnees and Camanches. 

We expected, on reaching Bent's Fort, to find there still 
another reinforcement. A young Kentuckian of the true 
Kentucky blood, generous, impetuous, and a gentleman 
withal, had come out to the mountains with Russel's party 25 
of California emigrants. One of his chief objects, as 
he gave out, was to kill an Indian; an exploit which he 
afterward succeeded in achieving, much to the jeopardy 
of ourselves and others who had to pass through the 
country of the dead Pawnee's enraged relatives. Having 30 
become disgusted with his emigrant associates, he left 
them, and had some time before set out with a party of 
companions for the head of the Arkansas. He sent us 
previously a letter, intimating that he would wait until 
we arrived at Bent's Fort, and accompany us thence to 35 
the settlements. When, however, he came to the fort he 
found there a party of forty men about to make the 
homeward journey. He wisely preferred to avail himself 



280 The Oregon Trail 

of so strong an escort. Mr. Sublette and his companions 
also set out, in order to overtake this company; so that 
on reaching Bent's Fort, some six weeks after, we found 
ourselves deserted by our allies and thrown once more 
5 upon our own resources. 

But I am anticipating. When, before leaving the settle- 
ment, we had made inquiries concerning this part of 
the country of General Kearny, Mr. Mackenzie, Captain 
Wyeth, and others well acquainted with it, they had all 

10 advised us by no means to attempt this southward journey 
with fewer than fifteen or twenty men. The danger con- 
sists in chance of encountering Indian war-parties. Some- 
times throughout the whole length of the journey (a dis- 
tance of three hundred and fifty miles), one does not 

15 meet a single human being ; frequently, however, the route 
is beset by Arapahoes and other unfriendly tribes; in 
which case the scalp of the adventurer is in imminent 
peril. As to the escort of fifteen or twenty men, such a 
force of whites could at that time scarcely be collected in 

20 the whole country ; and had the case been otherwise, the 
expense of securing them, together with the necessary 
number of horses, would have been extremely heavy. We 
had resolved, however, upon pursuing this southward 
course. There were, indeed, two other routes from Fort 

25 Laramie; but both of these were less interesting, and 
neither was free from danger. Being unable, therefore, 
to procure the fifteen or twenty men recommended, we 
determined to set out with those we had already in our 
employ — Henry Chatillon, Deslauriers, and Raymond. 

30 The men themselves made no objection, nor would they 
have made any had the journey been more dangerous; for 
Henry was without fear, and the other two without 
thought. 

Shaw and I were much better fitted for this mode of 

35 travelling than we had been on betaking ourselves to the 
prairies for the first time a few months before. The daily 
routine had ceased to be a novelty. All the details of the 
journey and the camp had become familiar to us. We 



The Lonely Journey 281 

had seen life under a new aspect; the human biped had 
been reduced to his primitive condition. We had lived 
without law to protect, a roof to shelter, or garment of 
cloth to cover us. One of us, at least, had been without 
bread, and without salt to season his food. Our idea of 5 
what is indispensable to human existence and enjoyment 
had been wonderfully curtailed, and a horse, a rifle, and 
a knife seemed to make up the whole of life's necessaries. 
For these once obtained, together with the skill to use 
them, all else that is essential would follow in their train, 10 
and a host of luxuries besides. One other lesson our 
short prairie experience had taught us: that of profound 
contentment in the present, and utter contempt for what 
the future might bring forth. 

These principles established, we prepared to leave Fort 15 
Laramie. On the fourth day of August, early in the 
afternoon, we bade a final adieu to its hospitable gateway. 
Again Shaw and I were riding side by side on the prairie. 
For the first fifty miles we had companions with us: 
Troche, a little trapper, and Rouville, a nondescript in the 20 
employ of the Fur Company, who were going to join the 
trader Bisonette at his encampment near the head of 
Horse Creek. We rode only six or eight miles that after- 
noon before we came to a little brook traversing the 
barren prairie. All along its course grew copses of young 25 
wild-cherry trees, loaded with ripe fruit, and almost con- 
cealing the gliding thread of water with their dense 
growth, while on each side rose swells of rich green grass. 
Here we encamped; and being much too indolent to pitch 
our tent, we flung our saddles on the ground, spread a pair 30 
of buffalo-robes, lay down upon them, and began to smoke. 
Meanwhile, Deslauriers busied himself with his hissing 
frying-pan, and Raymond stood guard over the band of 
grazing horses. Deslauriers had an active assistant in 
Rouville, who professed great skill in the culinary art, 35 
and seizing upon a fork, began to lend his zealous aid in 
making ready supper. Indeed, according to his own be- 
lief, Rouville was a man of universal knowledge, and he 



282 The Oregon Trail 

lost no opportunity to display his manifold accomplish- 
ments. He had been a circus-rider at St. Louis, and once 
he rode round Fort Laramie on his head, to the utter 
bewilderment of all the Indians. He was also noted as 
5 a wit at the fort ; and as he had considerable humor and 
abundant vivacity, he contributed more that night to the 
livelineess of the camp than all the rest of the party put 
together. At one instant he would be kneeling by Des- 
lauriers, instructing him in the true method of frying 

10 antelope-steaks, then he would come and seat himself at 
our side, dilating upon the orthodox fashion of braiding up 
a horse's tail, telling apocryphal stories how he had killed 
a buffalo-bull with a knife, having first cut off his tail 
when at full speed, or relating whimsical anecdotes of the 

15 bourgeois Papin. At last he snatched up a volume of 
Shakespeare that was lying on the grass, and halted and 
stumbled through a line or two to prove that he could 
read. He went gambolling about the camp, chattering 
like some frolicsome ape; and whatever he was doing at 

20 one moment, the presumption was a sure one that he 
would not be doing it the next. His compnaion Troche 
sat silently on the grass, not speaking a word, but keep- 
ing a vigilant eye on a very ugly little Utah squaw, of 
whom he was extremely jealous. 

25 On the next day we travelled farther, crossing the 
wide sterile basin called " Goche's Hole." Toward night 
we became involved among deep ravines; and being also 
unable to find water, our journey was protracted to a very 
late hour. On the next morning we had to pass a long 

30 line of bluffs, whose raw sides, wrought upon by rains and 
storms, were of a ghastly whiteness most oppressive to 
the sight. As we ascended a gap in these hills, the way 
was marked by huge foot-prints like those of a human 
giant. They were the track of the grizzly bear; and on 

35 the previous day also we had seen abundance of them 
along the dry channels of the streams we had passed. 
Immediately after this we were crossing a barren plain, 
spreading in long and gentle undulations to the horizon. 



The Lonely Journey 283 

Though the sun was bright, there was a light haze in the 
atmosphere. The distant hills assumed strange, dis- 
torted forms, and the edge of the horizon was continually 
changing its aspect. Shaw and I were riding together, 
and Henry Chatillon was alone, a few rods before us; he 5 
stopped his horse suddenly, and turning round with the 
peculiar eager and earnest expression which he always 
wore when excited, he called us to come forward. We 
galloped to his side. Henry pointed toward a black 
speck on the gray swell of the prairie, apparently about a 10 
mile off. " It must be a bear," said he ; " come, now we 
shall all have some sport. Better fun to fight him than 
to fight an old buffalo-bull; grizzly bear so strong and 
smart." 

So we all galloped forward together, prepared for a 15 
hard fight; for these bears, though clumsy in appearance 
and extremely large, are incredibly fierce and active. 
The swell of the prairie concealed the black object from 
our view. Immediately after it appeared again. But 
now it seemed quite near to us ; and as we looked at it in 20 
astonishment, it suddenly separated into two parts, each 
of which took wing and flew away. We stopped our 
horses and looked round at Henry, whose face exhibited a 
curious mixture of mirth and mortification. His hawk's 
eye had been so completely deceived by the peculiar atmos- 25 
phere, that he had mistaken two large crows at the dis- 
tance of fifty rods for a grizzly bear a mile off. To the 
journey's end Henry never heard the last of the grizzly 
bear with wings. 

In the afternoon we came to the foot of a considerable 30 
hill. As we ascended it, Rouville began to ask questions 
concerning our condition and prospects at home, and 
Shaw was edifying him with a minute account of an 
imaginary wife and child, to which he listened with im- 
plicit faith. Reaching the top of the hill, we saw the 35 
windings of Horse Creek on the plains below us, and a 
little on the left we could distinguish the camp of Bison- 
ette among the trees and copses along the course of the 



284 The Oregon Trail 

stream. Rouville's face assumed just then a most 
ludicrously blank expression. We inquired what was the 
matter; when it appeared that Bisonette had sent him 
from this place to Fort Laramie with the sole object of 
5 bringing back a supply of tobacco. Our rattlebrain 
friend, from the time of his reaching the fort up to the 
present moment, had entirely forgotten the object of his 
journey, and had ridden a dangerous hundred miles for 
nothing. Descending to Horse Creek, we forded it, and 

10 on the opposite bank a solitary Indian sat on horseback 
under a tree. He said nothing, but turned and led the 
way toward the camp. Bisonette had made choice of an 
admirable position. The stream, with its thick growth of 
trees, inclosed on three sides a wide green meadow, where 

15 about forty Dahcotah lodges were pitched in a circle, 
and beyond them half a dozen lodges of the friendly 
Shienne. Bisonette himself lived in the Indian manner. 
Riding up to his lodge, we found him seated at the head 
of it, surrounded by various appliances of comfort not 

20 common on the prairie. His squaw was near him, and 
rosy children were scrambling about in printed-calico 
gowns; Paul Dorion also, with his leathery face and old 
white capote, was seated in the lodge, together with 
Antoine Le Rouge, a half-breed Pawnee, Sibille, a trader, 

25 and several other white men. 

" It will do you no harm," said Bisonette, " to stay here 
with us for a day or two before you start for the 
Pueblo." 

We accepted the invitation and pitched our tent on a 

30 rising ground above the camp and close to the edge of the 
trees. Bisonette soon invited us to a feast, and we suf- 
fered abundance of the same sort of attention from his 
Indian associates. The reader may possibly recollect 
that when I joined the Indian village, beyond the Black 

35 Hills, I found that a few families were absent, having 
declined to pass the mountains along with the rest. The 
Indians in Bisonette's camp consisted of these very 
families, and many of them came to me that evening to 



The Lonely Journey 285 

inquire after their relatives and friends. They were not 
a little mortified to learn that while they, from their own 
timidity and indolence, were almost in a starving condi- 
tion, the rest of the village had provided their lodges for 
the next season, laid in a great stock of provisions, and 5 
were living in abundance and luxury. Bisonette's com- 
panions had been sustaining themselves for some time 
on wild cherries, which the squaws pounded up, stones 
and all, and spread on buffalo-robes to dry in the sun; 
they were then eaten without farther preparation, or 10 
used as an ingredient in various delectable compounds. 

On the next day the camp was in commotion with a 
new arrival. A single Indian had come with his family 
the whole way from Arkansas. As he passed among 
the lodges he put on an expression of unusual dignity 15 
and importance, and gave out that he had brought great 
news to tell the whites. Soon after the squaws had 
erected his lodge, he sent his little son to invite all the 
white men and all the more distinguished Indians to a 
feast. The guests arrived and sat wedged together, 20 
shoulder to shoulder, within the hot and suffocating 
lodge. The Stabber, for that was our entertainer's name, 
had killed an old buffalo-bull on his way. This veteran's 
boiled tripe, tougher than leather, formed the main item 
of the repast. For the rest, it consisted of wild cherries 25 
and grease boiled together in a large copper kettle. The 
feast was distributed, and for a moment all was silent, 
strenuous exertion; then each guest, with one or two 
exceptions however, turned his wooden dish bottom 
upward to prove that he had done full justice to his 30 
entertainer's hospitality. The Stabber next produced 
his chopping-board, on which he prepared the mixture 
for smoking, and filled several pipes, which circulated 
among the company. This done, he seated himself upright 
on his couch, and began with much gesticulation to tell 35 
his story. I will not repeat his childish jargon. It was 
so entangled, like the greater part of an Indian's stories, 
with absurd and contradictory details, that it was almost 



286 The Oregon Trail 

impossible to disengage from it a single particle of truth. 
All that we could gather was the following: 

He had been on the Arkansas, and there he had seen 
six great war-parties of whites. He had never believed 

5 before that the whole world contained half so many white 
men. They all had large horses, long knives, and short 
rifles, and some of them were attired alike in the most 
splendid war-dresses he had ever seen. From this account 
it was clear that bodies of dragoons and perhaps also of 

10 volunteer cavalry had been passing up the Arkansas. 
The Stabber had also seen a great many of the white 
lodges of the Meneaska, drawn by their long-horned buf- 
falo. These could be nothing else than covered ox-wagons, 
used no doubt in transporting stores for the troops. Soon 

15 after seeing this, our host had met an Indian who had 
lately come from among the Camanches. The latter 
had told him that all the Mexicans had gone out to a 
great buffalo-hunt ; that the Americans had hid themselves 
in a ravine. When the Mexicans had shot away all their 

20 arrows, the Americans had fired their guns, raised their 
war-whoop, rushed out, and killed them all. We could 
only infer from this that war had been declared with 
Mexico, and a battle fought in which the Americans were 
victorious. When, some weeks after, we arrived at the 

25 Pueblo, we heard of General Kearny's march up the 

Arkansas, and of General Taylor's victories at Matamoras. 

As the sun was setting that evening a great crowd 

gathered on the plain by the side of our tent, to try the 

speed of their horses. These were of every shape, size, 

30 and color. Some came from California, some from the 
States, some from among the mountains, and some from 
the wild bands of the prairie. They were of every hue — 
white, black, red, and gray, or mottled and clouded with 
a strange variety of colors. They all had a wild and 

35 startled look, very different from the staid and sober 
aspect of a well-bred city steed. Those most noted for 
swiftness and spirit were decorated with eagle feathers 
dangling from their manes and tails. Fifty or sixty 



The Lonely Journey 287 

Dahcotah were present, wrapped from head to foot in 
their heavy robes of whitened hide. There were also a 
considerable number of the Shienne, many of whom wore 
gaudy Mexican ponchos, swathed around their shoulders, 
but leaving the right arm bare. Mingled among the crowd 5 
of Indians were a number of Canadians, chiefly in the 
employ of Bisonette; men whose home is the wilderness, 
and who love the camp-fire better than the domestic 
hearth. They are contented and happy in the midst of 
hardship, privation, and danger. Their cheerfulness and 10 
gayety is irrepressible, and no people on earth understand 
better how " to daff the world aside and bid it pass." 
Besides these were two or three half-breeds, a race of 
rather extraordinary composition, being, according to the 
common saying, half Indian, half white man, and half 15 
devil. Antoine Le Rouge was the most conspicuous among 
them, with his loose pantaloons and his fluttering calico 
shirt. A handkerchief was bound round his head to 
confine his black snaky hair, and his small eyes twinkled 
beneath it with a mischievous lustre. He had a fine 20 
cream-colored horse, whose speed he must needs try along 
with the rest. So he threw off the rude high-peaked 
saddle, and substituting a piece of buffalo-robe, leaped 
lightly into his seat. The space was cleared, the word 
was given, and he and his Indian rival darted out like 25 
lightning from among the crowd, each stretching forward 
over his horse's neck and plying his heavy Indian whip 
with might and main. A moment, and both were lost in 
the gloom ; but Antoine soon came riding back victorious, 
exultingly patting the neck of his quivering and panting 30 
horse. 

About midnight, as I lay asleep, wrapped in a buffalo- 
robe on the ground by the side of our cart, Raymond 
came up and woke me. Something, he said, was going 
forward which I would like to see. Looking down into 35 
the camp I saw, on the farther side of it, a great number 
of Indians gathered around a fire, the bright glare of 
which made them visible through the thick darkness; 



288 The Oregon Trail 

while from the midst of them proceeded a loud, measured 
chant which would have killed Paganini outright, broken 
occasionally by a burst of sharp yells. I gathered the 
robe around me, for the night was cold, and walked 
5 down to the spot. The dark throng of Indians was so 
dense that they almost intercepted the light of the flame. 
As I was pushing among them with but little ceremony, 
a chief interposed himself, and I was given to understand 
that a white man must not approach the scene of their 

10 solemnities too closely. By passing around to the other 
side where there was a little opening in the crowd, I 
could see clearly what was going forward without intrud- 
ing my unhallowed presence into the inner circle. The 
society of the " Strong Hearts " were engaged in one of 

15 their dances. The " Strong Hearts " are a warlike asso- 
ciation, comprising men of both the Dahcotah and Shienne 
nations, and entirely composed, or supposed to be so, of 
young braves of the highest mettle. Its fundamental 
principle is the admirable one of never retreating from 

20 any enterprise once commenced. All these Indian asso- 
ciations have a tutelary spirit. That of the " Strong 
Hearts " is embodied in the fox, an animal which white 
men would hardly have selected for a similar purpose, 
though his subtle and cautious character agrees well 

25 enough with an Indian's notions of what is honorable in 
warfare. The dancers were circling round and round the 
fire, each figure brightly illumined at one moment by the 
yellow light, and at the next drawn in blackest shadow 
as it passed between the flame and the spectator. They 

30 would imitate with the most ludicrous exactness the 
motions and the voice of their sly patron the fox. Then 
a startling yell would be given. Many other warriors 
would leap into the ring, and with faces upturned toward 
the starless sky, they would all stamp, and whoop, and 

35 brandish their weapons like so many frantic devils. 

Until the next afternoon we were still remaining with 
Bisonette. My companion and I with our three attend- 
ants then left his camp for the Pueblo, a distance of three 



The Lonely Journey 289 

hundred miles, and we supposed the journey would occupy 
about a fortnight. During this time we all earnestly 
hoped that we might not meet a single human being, 
for should we encounter any, they would in all prob- 
ability be enemies, ferocious robbers and murderers, in 5 
whose eyes our rifles would be our only passports. For 
the first two days nothing worth mentioning took place. 
On the third morning, however, an untoward incident 
occurred. We were encamped by the side of a little 
brook in an extensive hollow of the plain. Deslauriers 10 
was up long before daylight, and before he began to pre- 
pare breakfast he turned loose all the horses, as in duty 
bound. There was a cold mist clinging close to the ground, 
and by the time the rest of us were awake the animals 
were invisible. It was only after a long and anxious 15 
search that we could discover by their tracks the direction 
they had taken. They had all set off for Fort Laramie, 
following the guidance of a mutinous old mule, and 
though many of them were hobbled, they had travelled 
three miles before they could be overtaken and driven 20 
back. 

For the following two or three days we were passing 
over an arid desert. The only vegetation was a few tufts 
of short grass, dried and shrivelled by the heat. There 
was an abundance of strange insects and reptiles. Huge 25 
crickets, black and bottle-green, and wingless grasshoppers 
of the most extravagant dimensions, were tumbling about 
our horses' feet, and lizards without number were darting 
like lightning among the tufts of grass. The most curious 
animal, however, was that commonly called the horned- 30 
frog. I caught one of them and consigned him to the 
care of Deslauriers, who tied him up in a moccasin. 
About a month after this I examined the prisoner's con- 
dition, and finding him still lively and active, I provided 
him with a cage of buffalo-hide, which was hung up in 35 
the cart. In this manner he arrived safely at the settle- 
ments. From thence he travelled the whole way to Bos- 
ton, packed closely in a trunk, being regaled with fresh 



290 The Oregon Trail 

air regularly every night. When he reached his destina- 
tion he was deposited under a glass case, where he sat for 
some months in great tranquillity and composure, alter- 
nately dilating and contracting his white throat to the 
5 admiration of his visitors. At length, one morning about 
the middle of winter, he gave up the ghost. His death 
was attributed to starvation, a very probable conclusion, 
since for six months he had taken no food whatever, 
though the sympathy of his juvenile admirers had tempted 

10 his palate with a great variety of delicacies. We found 
also animals of a somewhat larger growth. The number 
of prairie-dogs was absolutely astounding. Frequently the 
hard and dry prairie would be thickly covered, for many 
miles together, with the little mounds which they make 

15 around the mouth of their burrows, and small squeaking 
voices yelping at us as we passed along. The noses of the 
inhabitants would be just visible at the mouth of their 
holes, but no sooner was their curiosity satisfied than 
they would instantly vanish. Some of the bolder dogs — 

20 though in fact they are no dogs at all — but little marmots, 
rather smaller than a rabbit — would sit yelping at us on 
the top of their mounds, jerking their tails emphatically 
with every shrill cry they uttered. As the danger drew 
nearer they would wheel about, toss their heels into the 

25 air, and dive in a twinkling down into their burrows. 
Toward sunset, and especially if rain were threatening, 
the whole community would make their appearance above 
ground. We would see them gatherd in larg knots around 
the burrow of some favorite citizen. There they would all 

30 sit erect, their tails spread out on the ground, and their 
paws hanging down before their white breasts, chatter- 
ing and squeaking with the utmost vivacity upon some 
topic of common interest, while the proprietor of the bur- 
row, with his head just visible on the top of his mound, 

35 would sit looking down with a complacent countenance 
on the enjoyment of his guests. Meanwhile, others would 
be running about from burrow to burrow, as if on some 
errand of the last importance to their subterranean com- 



The Lonely Journey 291 

monwealth. The snakes are apparently the prairie-dog's 
worst enemies; at least I think too well of the latter to 
suppose that they associate on friendly terms with these 
slimy intruders, who may be seen at all times basking 
among their holes, into which they always retreat when 5 
disturbed. Small owls, with wise and grave countenances, 
also make their abode with the prairie-dogs, though on 
what terms they live together I could never ascertain. 
The manner and customs, the political and domestic 
economy of these little marmots are worthy of closer 10 
attention than one is able to give when pushing by forced 
marches through their country, with his thoughts en- 
grossed by objects of greater moment. 

On the fifth day after leaving Bisonette's camp we 
saw, late in the afternoon, what we supposed to be a 15 
considerable stream, but, on our approaching it, we found 
to our mortification nothing but a dry bed of sand, into 
which all the water had sunk and disappeared. We sepa- 
rated, some riding in one direction and some in another, 
along its course. Still we found no traces of water, not 20 
even so much as a wet spot in the sand. The old cotton- 
wood trees that grew along the bank, lamentably abused 
by lightning and tempest, were withering with the drought, 
and on the dead limbs, at the summit of the tallest, half 
a dozen crows were hoarsely cawing like birds of evil 25 
omen as they were. We had no alternative but to keep on. 
There was no water nearer than the South Fork of the 
Platte, about ten miles distant. We moved forward, angry 
and silent, over a desert as flat as the outspread ocean. 

The sky had been obscured since the morning by thin 30 
mists and vapors, but now vast piles of clouds were 
gathered together in the west. They rose to a great 
height above the horizon, and looking up toward them, 
I distinguished one mass darker than the rest and of a 
peculiar conical form. I happened to look again, and still 35 
could see it as before. At some moments it was dimly 
seen, at others its outline was sharp and distinct; but 
while the clouds around it were shifting, changing, and 



292 The Oregon Trail 

dissolving away, it still towered aloft in the midst of 
them, fixed and immovable. It must, thought I, be the 
summit of a mountain; and yet its height staggered me. 
My conclusion was right, however. It was Long's Peak, 
5 once believed to be one of the highest of the Rocky Moun- 
tain chain, though more recent discoveries have proved 
the contrary. The thickening gloom soon hid it from 
view, and we never saw it again, for on the following day, 
and for some time after, the air was so full of mist that 

10 the view of distant objects was entirely intercepted. 

It grew very late. Turning from our direct course, we 
made for the river at its nearest point, though in the 
utter darkness it was not easy to direct our way with 
much precision. Raymond rode on one side and Henry 

15 on the other. We could hear each of them shouting that 
he had come upon a deep ravine. We steered at random 
between Scylla and Charybdis, and soon after became, 
as it seemed, inextricably involved in deep chasms all 
around us, while the darkness was such that we could not 

20 see a rod in any direction. We partially extricated 
ourselves by scrambling, cart and all, through a shallow 
ravine. We came next to a steep descent, down which 
we plunged without well knowing what was at the bottom. 
There was a great cracking of sticks and dry twigs. Over 

25 our heads were certain large shadowy objects; and in front 
something like the faint gleaming of a dark sheet of 
water. Raymond ran his horse against a tree; Henry 
alighted, and feeling on the ground, declared that there 
was grass enough for the horses. Before taking off his 

30 saddle, each man led his own horses down to the water in 
the best way he could. Then picketing two or three of 
the evil-disposed, we turned the rest loose and lay down 
among the dry sticks to sleep. In the morning we found 
ourselves close to the South Fork of the Platte, on a spot 

35 surrounded by bushes and rank grass. Compensating our- 
selves with a hearty breakfast for the ill fare of the 
previous night, we set forward again on our journey. 
When only two or three rods from the camp I saw Shaw 



The Lonely Journey 293 

stop his mule, level his gun, and after a long aim fire at 
some object in the grass. Deslauriers next jumped for- 
ward and began to dance about, belaboring the unseen 
enemy with a whip. Then he stooped down and drew out 
of the grass by the neck an enormous rattlesnake, with his 5 
head completely shattered by Shaw's bullet. As Deslau- 
riers held him out at arm's length with an exulting grin, 
his tail, which still kept slowly writhing about, almost 
touched the ground; and the body in the largest part was 
as thick as a stout man's arm. He had fourteen rattles, 10 
but the end of his tail was blunted, as if he could once 
have boasted of many more. From this time till we 
reached the Pueblo, we killed at least four or five of these 
snakes every day, as they lay coiled and rattling on the hot 
sand. Shaw was the Saint Patrick of the party, and 15 
whenever he or any one else killed a snake he always 
pulled off its tail and stored it away in his bullet-pouch, 
which was soon crammed with an edifying collection of 
rattles, great and small. Deslauriers with his whip also 
came in for a share of the praise. A day or two after this 20 
he triumphantly produced a small snake about a span and 
a half long, with one infant rattle at the end of his tail. 

We forded the South Fork of the Platte. On its farther 
bank were the traces of a very large camp of Arapahoes. 
The ashes of some three hundred fires were visible among 25 
the scattered trees, together with the remains of sweating 
lodges and all the other appurtenances of a permanent 
camp. The place, however, had been for some months 
deserted. A few miles farther on we found more recent 
signs of Indians; the trail of two or three lodges, which 30 
had evidently passed the day before, where every foot- 
print was perfectly distinct in the dry, dusty soil. We 
noticed in particular the track of one moccasin, upon the 
sole of which its economical proprietor had placed a large 
patch. These signs gave us but little uneasiness, as the 35 
number of warriors scarcely exceeded that of our own 
party. At noon we rested under the walls of a large fort, 
built in these solitudes some years since by M. St. Vrain, 



294 The Oregon Trail 

It was now abandoned and fast falling into ruin. The 
walls of unbaked bricks were cracked from top to bottom. 
Our horses recoiled in terror from the neglected entrance, 
where the heavy gates were torn from their hinges and 
5 flung down. The area within was overgrown with weeds, 
and the long ranges of apartments once occupied by the 
motley concourse of traders, Canadians, and squaws' were 
ROW miserably dilapidated. Twelve miles farther on. 
near the spot where we encamped, were the remains of 

10 still another fort, standing in melancholy desertion and 
neglect. 

Early on the following morning we made a startling 
discovery. We passed close by a large deserted encamp- 
ment of Arapahoes. There were about fifty fires still 

15 smouldering on the ground, and it was evident from 
numerous signs that the Indians must have left the place 
within two hours of our reaching it. Their trail crossed 
our own at right angles, and led in the direction of a line 
of hills, half a mile on our left. There were women and 

20 children in the party, which would have greatly diminished 
the danger of encountering them. Henry Chatillon ex- 
amined the encampment and the trail with a very pro- 
fessional and business-like air. 
" Supposing we had met them, Henry? " said I. 

25 " Why," said he, " we hold out our hands to them, and 
give them all we've got; they take away everything, and 
then I believe they no kill us. Perhaps," added he, look- 
ing up with a quiet unchanged face, " perhaps we no let 
them rob us. Maybe before they come near, we have a 

30 chance to get into a ravine, or under the bank of the river ; 
then, you know, we fight them." 

About noon on that day we reached Cherry Creek. 
Here was a great abundance of wild-cherries, plums, 
gooseberries, and currants. The stream, however, like 

35 most of the others which we passed, was dried up with 
the heat, and we had to dig holes in the sand to find water 
for ourselves and our horses. Two days after, we left the 
banks of the creek which we had been following for some 



The Lonely Journey 295 

time, and began to cross the high dividing ridge which 
separates the waters of the Platte from those of the 
Arkansas. The scenery was altogether changed. In place 
of the burning plains, we were passing now through rough 
and savage glens, and among hills crowned with a dreary 5 
growth of pines. We encamped among these solitudes 
on the night of the sixteenth of August. A tempest was 
threatening. The sun went down among volumes of jet- 
black cloud, edged with a bloody red. But in spite of 
these portentous signs, we neglected to put up the tent, and 10 
being extremely fatigued, lay down on the ground and fell 
asleep. The storm broke about midnight, and we erected 
the tent amid darkness and confusion. In the morning all 
was fair again, and Pike's Peak, white with snow, was 
towering above the wilderness afar off. 15 

We pushed through an extensive tract of pine woods. 
Large black squirrels were leaping among the branches. . 
From the farther edge of this forest we saw the prairie 
again, hollowed out before us into a vast basin, and about 
a mile in front we could discern a little black speck mov- 20 
ing upon its surface. It could be nothing but a buffalo. 
Henry primed his rifle afresh and galloped forward. To 
the left of the animal was a low rocky mound, of which 
Henry availed himself in making his approach. After a 
short time we heard the faint report of the rifle. The 25 
bull, mortally wounded from a distance of nearly three 
hundred yards, ran wildly round and round in a circle. 
Shaw and I then galloped forward, and passing him as he 
ran foaming with rage and pain, we discharged our pistols 
into his side. Once or twice he rushed furiously upon us, 30 
but his strength was rapidly exhausted. Down he fell on 
his knees. For one instant he glared up at his enemies, 
with burning eyes, through his black tangled mane, and 
then rolled over on his side. Though gaunt and thin, he 
was. larger and heavier than the largest ox. Foam and 35 
blood flew together from his nostrils as he lay bellowing 
and pawing the ground, tearing up grass and earth with 
his hoofs. His sides rose and fell like a vast pair of 



296 The Oregon Trail 

bellows, the blood spurting up in jets from the bullet-holes. 
Suddenly his glaring eyes became like a lifeless jelly. 
He lay motionless on the ground. Henry stooped over 
him, and making an incision with his knife, pronounced 

5 the meat too rank and tough for use ; so, disappointed 
in our hopes of an addition to our stock of provisions, we 
rode away and left the carcass to the wolves. 

In the afternoon we saw the mountains rising like a 
gigantic wall at no great distance on our right. " Des 

10 sauvages! des sauvages ! " exclaimed Deslauriers, looking 
around with a frightened face, and pointing with his whip 
toward the foot of the mountains. In fact, we could see 
at a distance a number of little black specks, like horsemen 
in rapid motion. Henry Chatillon, with Shaw and myself, 

15 galloped toward them to reconnoitre, when, to our 
amusement, we saw the supposed Arapahoes resolved 

» into the black tops of some pine trees, which grew 
along a ravine. The summits of these pines, just visible 
above the verge of the prairie, and seeming to move as 

20 we ourselves were advancing, looked exactly like a line 
of horsemen. 

We encamped among ravines and hollows, through 
which a little brook was foaming angrily. Before sunrise 
in the morning the snow-covered mountains were beauti- 

25 fully tinged with a delicate rose color. A noble spectacle 
awaited us as we moved forward. Six or eight miles on 
our right. Pike's Peak and his giant brethren rose out of 
the level prairie, as if springing from the bed of the ocean. 
From their summits down to the plain below they were 

30 involved in a mantle of clouds, in restless motion, as if 
urged by strong winds. For one instant some snowy peak, 
towering in awful solitude, would be disclosed to view. 
As the clouds broke along the mountain, we could see 
the dreary forests, the tremendous precipices, the white 

35 patches of snow, the gulfs and chasms as black as night, 
all revealed for an instant, and then disappearing from 
the view. One could not but recall the stanza of Childe 
Harold: 



The Lonely Journey 297 

"Morn dawns, and with it stern Albania's hills, 
Dark Suli's rocks, and Pindus' inland peak. 
Robed half in mist, bedewed with snowy rills, 
Array'd in many a dun and purple streak, 
Arise; and, as the clouds along them break. 
Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer: 5 

Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak. 
Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear. 
And gathering storms around convulse the closing year." 

Every line save one of this description was more than 
verified. There were no " dwellings of the mountaineer " lo 
among these heights. Fierce savages, restlessly wander- 
ing through summer and winter, alone invade them. 
" Their hand is against every man, and every man's hand 
against them." 

On the day after, we had left the mountains at some 15 
distance. A black cloud descended upon them, and a 
tremendous explosion of thunder followed, reverberating 
among the precipices. In a few moments everything grew 
black, and the rain poured down like a cataract. We got 
under an old cotton-wood tree which stood by the side 20 
of a stream, and waited there till the rage of the torrent 
had passed. 

The clouds opened at the point where they first had 
gathered, and the whole sublime congregation of moun- 
tains was bathed at once in warm sunshine. They seemed 25 
more like some luxurious vision of eastern romance than 
like a reality of that wilderness; all were melted together 
into a soft delicious blue, as voluptuous as the sky of 
Naples or the transparent sea that washes the sunny clififs 
of Capri. On the left the whole sky was still of an inky 30 
blackness; but two concentric rainbows stood in brilliant 
relief against it, while far in front the ragged cloud still 
streamed before the wind, and the retreating thunder 
muttered angrily. 

Through that afternoon and the next morning we were 35 
passing down the banks of the stream called " La Fontaine 
qui Bouille," from the boiling spring whose waters flow 
into it. When we stopped at noon, we were within six or 



298 The Oregon Trail 

eight miles of the Pueblo. Setting out again, we found 
by the fresh tracks that a horseman had just been out to 
reconnoitre us; he had circled half round the camp, and 
then galloped back full speed for the Pueblo. What made 
5 him so shy of us we could not conceive. After an hour's 
ride we reached the edge of a hill, from which a welcome 
sight greeted us. The Arkansas ran along the valley 
below, among woods and groves, and closely nestled in 
the midst of wide corn-fields and green meadows, where 
10 cattle were grazing, rose the low mud walls of the Pueblo. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE PUEBLO AND BENT'S FORT 

" It came to pass, that when he did address 

Himself to quit at length this mountain land, 
Combined marauders half-way barred egress, 
And wasted far and near with glaive and brand." 

Childe Harold. 

We approached the gate of the Pueblo. It was a 
wretched species of fort, of most primitive construction, 
being nothing more than a large square inclosure, sur- 
rounded by a wall of mud, miserably cracked and dilapi- 
dated. The slender pickets that surmounted it were half-5 
broken down, and the gate dangled on its wooden hinges 
so loosely that to open or shut it seemed likely to fling 
it down altogether. Two or three squalid Mexicans, with 
their broad hats, and their vile faces overgrown with 
hair, were lounging about the bank of the river in front of 10 
it. They disappeared as they saw us approach; and as 
we rode up to the gate, a light, active, little figure came 
out to meet us. It was our old friend Richard. He had 
come from Fort Laramie on a trading expedition to Taos ; 
but finding when he reached the Pueblo that the warl5 
would prevent his going farther, he was quietly waiting 
till the conquest of the country should allow him to pro- 
ceed. He seemed to consider himself bound to do the 
honors of the place. Shaking us warmly by the hand, he 
led the way into the area. 20 

Here we saw his large Santa Fe wagons standing 
together. A few squaws and Spanish women, and a few 
Mexicans, as mean and miserable as the place itself, 
were lazily sauntering about. Richard conducted us to the 
state apartment of the Pueblo, a -small mud room, very 25 
neatly finished, considering the material, and garnished 

299 



300 The Oregon Trail 

with a crucifix, a looking-glass, a picture of the Virgin, 
and a rusty horse-pistol. There were no chairs, but instead 
of them a number of chests and boxes ranged about the 
room. There was another room beyond, less sumptuously 
5 decorated, and here three or four Spanish girls, one of 
them very pretty, were baking cakes at a mud fireplace 
in the corner. They brought out a poncho, which they 
spread upon the floor by way of table-cloth. A supper, 
which seemed to us luxurious, was soon laid out upon it, 

10 and folded buffalo-robes were placed around it to receive 
the guests. Two or three Americans besides ourselves 
were present. We sat down Turkish fashion, and began 
to inquire the news. Richard told us that, about three 
weeks before. General Kearny's army had left Bent's 

15 Fort to march against Santa Fe; that when last heard 
from they were approaching the mountainous defiles that 
led to the city. One of the Americans produced a dingy 
newspaper containing an account of the battles of Palo 
Alto and Resaca de la Palma. While we were discussing 

20 these matters, the doorway was darkened by a tall, sham- 
bling fellow, who stood with his hands in his pockets, 
taking a leisurely survey of the premises before he en-* 
tered. He wore brown homespun pantaloons, much too 
short for his legs, and a pistol and Bowie-knife stuck in 

25 his belt. His head and one eye were enveloped in a huge 
bandage of white linen. Having completed his observa- 
tions, he came slouching in and sat down on a chest. 
Eight or ten more of the same stamp followed, and very 
coolly arranging themselves about the room, began to 

30 stare at the company. Shaw and I looked at each other. 
We were forcibly reminded of the Oregon emigrants, 
though these unwelcome visitors had a certain glitter of 
the eye, and a compression of the lips, which distinguished 
them from our old acquaintances of the prairie. They 

35 began to catechise us at once, inquiring whence we had 
come, what we meant to do next, and what were our 
future prospects in life. 
The man with the bandaged head had met with an 



The Pueblo and Bent's Fort 301 

untoward accident a few days before. He was going 
down to the river to bring water, and was pushing 
through the young willows which covered the low ground, 
when he came unawares upon a grizzly bear, which, hav- 
ing just eaten a buffalo-bull, had lain down to sleep off the 5 
meal. The bear rose on his hind legs, and gave the in- 
truder such a blow with his paw that he laid his forehead 
entirely bare, clawed off the front of his scalp, and 
narrowly missed one of his eyes. Fortunately he was not 
in a very pugnacious mood, being surfeited with his late 10 
meal. The man's companions, who were close behind, 
raised a shout, and the bear walked away, crushing down 
the willows in his leisurely retreat. 

These men belonged to a party of Mormons, who, out 
of a well-grounded fear of the other emigrants, had post- 15 
poned leaving the settlements until all the rest were 
gone. On account of this delay they did not reach Fort 
Laramie until it was too late to continue their journey 
to California. Hearing that there was good land at the 
head of the Arkansas, they crossed over under the guid- 20 
ance of Richard, and were now preparing to spend the 
winter at a spot about half a mile from the Pueblo. 

When we took leave of Richard, it was near sunset. 
Passing out of the gate, we could look down the little 
valley of the Arkansas; a beautiful scene, and doubly so 25 
to our eyes, so long accustomed to deserts and mountains. 
Tall woods lined the river, with green meadows on either 
hand; and high blufifs, quietly basking in the sunlight, 
flanked the narrow valley. A Mexican on horseback 
was driving a herd of cattle toward the gate, and our 30 
little white tent, which the men had pitched under a 
large tree in the meadow, made a very pleasing feature 
in the scene. When we reached it, we found that Richard 
had sent a Mexican to bring us an abundant supply of 
green corn and vegetables, and invite us to help ourselves 35 
to whatever we wished from the fields around the Pueblo. 

The inhabitants were in daily apprehension of an inroad 
from more formidable consumers than ourselves. Every 



302 The Oregon Trail 

year, at the time when the corn begins to ripen, the 
Arapahoes, to the number of several thousands, come and 
encamp around the Peublo. The handful of white men, 
who are entirely at the mercy of this swarm of barbarians, 
5 choose to make a merit of necessity; they come forward 
very cordially, shake them by the hand, and intimate that 
the harvest is entirely at their disposal. The Arapahoes 
take them at their word, help themselves most liberally, 
and usually turn their horses into the cornfields after- 

10 ward. They have the foresight, however, to leave enough 
of the crops untouched to serve as an inducement for 
planting the fields again for their benefit in the next 
spring. 

The human race in this part of the world is separated 

15 into three divisions, arranged in the order of their merits: 
white men, Indians, and Mexicans; to the latter of whom 
the honorable title of " whites " is by no means con- 
ceded. 

In spite of the warm sunset of that evening, the next 

20 morning was a dreary and cheerless one. It rained stead- 
ily, clouds resting upon the very tree-tops. We crossed 
the river to visit the Mormon settlement. As we passed 
through the water, several trappers on horse-back entered 
it from the other side. Their buckskin frocks were soaked 

25 through by the rain, and clung fast to their limbs with a 
most clammy and uncomfortable look. The water was 
trickling down their faces, and dropping from the ends of 
their rifles and from the traps which each carried at the 
pommel of his saddle. Horses and all, they had a most 

30 disconsolate and woe-begone appearance, which we could 
not help laughing at, forgetting how often we ourselves 
had been in a similar plight. 

After half an hours' riding we saw the white wagons 
of the Mormons drawn up among the trees. Axes were 

35 sounding, trees were falling, and log-huts going up along 
the edge of the woods and upon the adjoining meadow. 
As we came up the Mormons left their work and seated 
themselves on the timber around us, when they began 



The Pueblo and Bent's Fort 303 

earnestly to discuss points of theology, complain of the 
ill usage they had received from the " Gentiles," and 
sound a lamentation over the loss of their great temple 
of Nauvoo. After remaining with them an hour we rode 
back to our camp, happy that the settlements had been 5 
delivered from the presence of such blind and desperate 
fanatics. 

On the morning after this we left the Pueblo for Bent's 
Fort. The conduct of Raymond had lately been less 
satisfactory than before, and we had discharged him as 10 
soon as we arrived at the former place ; so that the party, 
ourselves included, was now reduced to four. There was 
some uncertainty as to our future course. The trail 
between Bent's Fort and the settlements, a distance com- 
puted at six hundred miles, was at this time in a dangerous 15 
state; for, since the passage of General Kearny's army, 
great numbers of hostile Indians, chiefly Pawnees and 
Camanches, had gathered about some parts of it. A 
little after this time they became so numerous and auda- 
cious that scarcely a single party, however large, passed 20 
between the fort and the frontier without some token of 
their hostility. The newspapers of the time sufficiently 
display this state of things. Many men were killed, 
and great numbers of horses and mules carried off. Not 
long since I met with a gentleman, who, during the 25 
autumn, came from Santa Fe to Bent's Fort, where he 
found a party of seventy men, who thought themselves 
too weak to go down to the settlements alone, and were 
waiting there for a reinforcement. Though this excessive 
timidity fully proves the ignorance and credulity of the 30 
men, it may also evince the state of alarm which pre- 
vailed in the country. When we were there in the month 
of August, the danger had not become so great. There 
was nothing very attractive in the neighborhood. We 
. supposed, moreover, that we might wait there half the 35 
winter without finding any party to go down with us; 
for Mr. Sublette and the others whom we had relied upon 
had, as Richard told us, already left Bent's Fort. Thus 



304 The Oregon Trail 

far on our journey fortune had kindly befriended us. 
We resolved, therefore, to take advantage of her gracious 
mood, and trusting for a continuance of her favors, to set 
out with Henry and Deslauriers, and run the gauntlet of 

5 the Indians in the best way we could. 

Bent's Fort stands on the river, about seventy-five 
miles below the Pueblo. At noon of the third day we 
arrived within three or four miles of it, pitched our tent 
under a tree, hung our looking-glasses against its trunk, 

10 and having made our primitive toilet, rode toward the 
fort. We soon came in sight of it, for it is visible from a 
considerable distance, standing with its high clay walls 
in the midst of the scorching plains. It seemed as if a 
swarm of locusts had invaded the country. The grass 

15 for miles around was cropped close by the horses of 
General Kearny's soldiery. When we came to the fort 
we found that not only had the horses eaten up the grass, 
but their owners had made way with the stores of the 
little trading-post; so that we had great difficulty in pro- 

20 curing the few articles which we required for our home- 
ward journey. The army was gone, the life and bustle 
passed away, and the fort was a scene of dull and lazy 
tranquillity. A few invalid officers and soldiers sauntered 
about the area, which was oppressively hot; for the glar- 

25 ing sun was reflected down upon it from the high white 
walls around. The proprietors were absent, and we were 
received by Mr. Holt, who had been left in charge of the 
fort. He invited us to dinner, where, to our admiration, 
we found a table laid with a white cloth, with castors in 

30 the centre and chairs placed around it. This unwonted 
repast concluded, we rode back to our camp. 

Here, as we lay smoking round the fire after supper, 
we saw through the dusk three men approaching from 
the direction of the fort. They rode up and seated them- 

35 selves near us on the ground. The foremost was a tall, 
well-formed man, with a face and manner such as inspire 
confidence at once. He wore a broad hat of felt, slouch- 
ing and tattered, and the rest of his attire consisted of a 



The Pueblo and Bent's Fort 305 

frock and leggings of buckskin, rubbed with the yellow 
clay found among the mountains. At the heel of one of 
his moccasins was buckled a huge iron spur, with a rowel 
five or six inches in diameter. His horse, who stood 
quietly looking over his head, had a rude Mexican saddle, 5 
covered with a shaggy bear-skin, and furnished with a 
pair of wooden stirrups of most preposterous size. The 
next man was a sprightly, active little fellow, about five 
feet and a quarter high, but very strong and compact. 
His face was swarthy as a Mexican's and covered with 10 
a close, curly, black beard. An old, greasy calico hand- 
kerchief was tied round his head, and his close buckskin 
dress was blackened and polished by grease and hard 
service. The last who came up was a large, strong man, 
dressed in the coarse homespun of the frontiers, who 15 
dragged his long limbs over the ground as if he were too 
lazy for the effort. He had a sleepy gray eye, a retreat- 
ing chin, an open mouth, and a protruding upper lip, 
which gave him an air of exquisite indolence and help- 
lessness. He was armed with an old United States yager, 20 
which redoubtable weapon, though he could never hit 
his mark with it, he was accustomed to cherish as the 
very sovereign of firearms. 

The first two men belonged to a party who had just 
come from California with a large band of horses, which 25 
they had disposed of at Bent's Fort. Munroe, the taller 
of the two, was from Iowa. He was an excellent fellow, 
open, warm-hearted, and intelligent. Jim Gurney, the 
short man, was a Boston sailor, who had come in a 
trading-vessel to California, and taken the fancy to return 30 
across the continent. The journey had already made him 
an expert " mountain man," and he presented the extraor- 
dinary phenomenon of a sailor who understood how to 
manage a horse. The third of our visitors, named Ellis, 
was a Missourian, who had come out with a party of 35 
Oregon emigrants, but having got as far as Bridger'3 Fort, 
he had fallen home-sick, or as Jim averred, love-sick — 
and Ellis was just the man to be balked in a love adven- 



3o6 The Oregon Trail 

ture. He thought proper, therefore, to join the California 
men and return homeward in their company. 

They now requested that they might unite with our 
party, and make the journey to the settlements in com- 

5 pany with us. We readily assented, for we liked the 
appearance of the first two men, and were very glad to 
gain so efficient a reinforcement. We told them to meet 
us on the next evening at a spot on the river side, about 
six miles below the fort. Having smoked a pipe together, 

10 our new allies left us, and we lay down to sleep. 



CHAPTER XXII 

TETE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER 

" Ah me ! what evils do environ 
The man that meddles with cold iron." 

HUDIBRAS. 

The next morning, having directed Deslauriers to repair 
v^^ith his cart to the place of meeting, we came again to 
the fort to make some arrangements for the journey. 
After completing these v^e sat down under a sort of 
porch, to smoke with some Shienne Indians whom we 5 
found there. In a few minutes we saw an extraordinary 
little figure approach us in a military dress. He had a 
small, round countenance, garnished about the eyes with 
the kind of wrinkles commonly known as crow's feet, and 
surmounted by an abundant crop of red curls, with a 10 
little cap resting on the top of them. Altogether, he had 
the look of a man more conversant with mint-juleps and 
oyster-suppers than with the hardships of prairie-service. 
He came up to us and entreated that we would take him 
home to the settlements, saying that unless he went with 15 
us he should have to stay all winter at the fort. We liked 
our petitioner's appearance so little that we excused our- 
selves from complying with his request. At this he 
begged us so hard to take pity on him, looked so discon- 
solate, and told so lamentable a story, that at last we 20 
consented, though not without many misgivings. 

The rugged Anglo-Saxon of our new recruit's real name 
proved utterly unmanageable on the lips of our French 
attendants, and Henry Chatillon, after various abortive 
attempts to pronounce it, one day coolly christened him 25 
Tete Rouge, in honor of his red curls. He had at differ- 
ent times been clerk of a Mississippi steamboat, and agent 

307 



3o8 The Oregon Trail 

in a trading establishment at Nauvoo, besides filling vari- 
ous other capacities, in all of which he had seen much 
more of " life " than was good for him. In the spring, 
thinking that a summer's campaign would be an agreeable 
5 recreation, he had joined a company of St. Louis volun- 
teers. 

" There were three of us," said Tete Rouge, " me and 
Bill Stephens and John Hopkins. We thought we would 
just go out with the army, and when we had conquered 

10 the country, we would get discharged and take our pay, 

you know, and go down to Mexico. They say there is 

plenty of fun going on there. Then we could go back to 

New Orleans by way of Vera Cruz." 

But Tete Rouge, like many a stouter volunteer, had 

15 reckoned without his host. Fighting Mexicans was a 
less amusing occupation than he had supposed, and his 
pleasure-trip was disagreeably interrupted by brain-fever, 
which attacked him when about half-way to Bent's Fort. 
He jolted along through the rest of the journey in a 

20 baggage-wagon. When they came to the fort he was 
taken out and left there, together with the rest of the 
sick. Bent's Fort does not supply the best accommodations 
for an invalid. Tete Rouge's sick chamber was a little 
mud room, where he and a companion, attacked by the 

25 same disease, were laid together, with nothing but a 
buffalo-robe between them and the ground. The assistant 
surgeon's deputy visited them once a day and brought 
them each a huge dose of calomel, the only medicine, 
according to his surviving victim, with which he was 

30 acquainted. 

Tete Rouge woke one morning, and, turning to his 
companion, saw his eyes fixed upon the beams above with 
the glassy stare of a dead man. At this the unfortunate 
volunteer lost his senses outright. In spite of the doctor, 

35 however, he eventually recovered ; though between the 
brain-fever and the calomel, his mind, originally none of 
the strongest, was so much shaken that it had not quite 
recovered its balance when we came to the fort. In spite 



Tete Rouge, the Volunteer 309 

of the poor fellow's tragic story, there was something so 
ludicrous in his appearance, and the whimsical contrast 
between his military dress and his most unmilitary de- 
meanor, that we could not help smiling at them. We 
asked him if he had a gun. He said they had taken it 5 
from him during his illness, and he had not seen it since; 
" but perhaps," he observed, looking at me with a beseech- 
ing air, " you will lend me one of your big pistols if we 
should meet with any Indians." I next inquired if he 
had a horse ; he declared he had a magnificent one, and at 10 
Shaw's request, a Mexican led him in for inspection. He 
exhibited the outline of a good horse, but his eyes were 
sunk in the sockets, and every one of his ribs could be 
counted. There were certain marks too about his shoul- 
ders, which could be accounted for by the circumstance 15 
that, during Tete Rouge's illness, his companions had 
seized upon the insulted charger, and harnessed him to a 
cannon along with the draft horses. To Tete Rouge's 
astonishment we recommended him by all means to ex- 
change the horse, if he could, for a mule. Fortunately 20 
the people at the fort were so anxious to get rid of him 
that they were willing to make some sacrifice to effect 
the object, and he succeeded in getting a tolerable mule 
in exchange for the broken-down steed. 

A man soon appeared at the gate, leading in the mule 25 
by a cord, which he placed in the hands of Tete Rouge, 
who, being somewhat afraid of his new acquisition, tried 
various flatteries and blandishments to induce her to 
come forward. The mule, knowing that she was expected 
to advance, stopped short in consequence, and stood fast 30 
as a rock, looking straight forward with immovable com- 
posure. Being stimulated by a blow from behind, she 
consented to move, and walked nearly to the other side 
of the fort before she stopped again. Hearing the by- 
standers laugh, Tete Rouge plucked up spirit and tugged 35 
hard at the rope. The mule jerked backward, spun her- 
self round, and made a dash for the gate. Tete Rouge, 
who clung manfully to the rope, went whisking through 



3IO The Oregon Trail 

the air for a few rods, when he let go and stood with his 
mouth open, staring after the mule, who galloped away 
over the prairie. She was soon caught and brought back 
by a Mexican, who mounted a horse and went in pursuit 
5 of her with his lasso. 

Having thus displayed his capacities for prairie travel- 
ling, Tete proceeded to supply himself with provisions 
for the journey, and with this view he applied to a quarter- 
master's assistant who was in the fort. This official had 

10 a face as sour as vinegar, being in a state of chronic 
indignation because he had been left behind the army. 
He was as anxious as the rest to get rid of Tete Rouge. 
So, producing a rusty key, he opened a low door which led 
to a half-subterranean apartment, into which the two 

15 disappeared together. After some time they came out 
again, Tete Rouge greatly embarrassed by a multiplicity 
of paper parcels containing the different articles of his 
forty days' rations. They were consigned to the care of 
Deslauriers, who about that time passed by with the cart 

20 on his way to the appointed place of meeting with Munroe 
and his companions. 

We next urged Tete Rouge to provide himself, if he 
could, with a gun. He accordingly made earnest appeals 
to the charity of various persons in the fort, but totally 

25 without success, a circumstance which did not greatly 
disturb us, since, in the event of a skirmish, he would be 
much more apt to do mischief to himself or his friends 
than to the enemy. When all these arrangements were 
completed we saddled our horses and were preparing to 

30 leave the fort, when, looking around, we discovered that 
our new associate was in fresh trouble. A man was 
holding the mule for him in the middle of the fort, while 
he tried to put the saddle on her back, but she kept step- 
ping sideways and moving round and round in a circle 

35 until he was almost in despair. It required some assist- 
ance before all his difficulties could be overcome. At 
length he clambered into the black war-saddle on which he 
was to have carried terror into the ranks of the Mexicans. 



Tete Rouge, the Volunteer 311 

" Get up ! " said Tete Rouge ; " come now, go along, will 
you?" 

The mule walked deliberately forward out of the gate. 
Her recent conduct had inspired him with so much awe 
that he never dared to touch her with his whip. We 5 
trotted forward toward the place of meeting, but before 
we had gone far we saw that Tete Rouge's mule, who 
perfectly understood her rider, had stopped and was 
quietly grazing, in spite of his protestations, at some 
distance behind. So, getting behind him, we drove him 10 
and the contumacious mule before us, until we could see 
through the twilight the gleaming of a distant fire. Mun- 
roe, Jim, and Ellis were lying around it; their saddles, 
packs, and weapons were scattered about, and their horses 
picketed near them. Deslauriers was there, too, with our 15 
little cart. Another fire was soon blazing high. We in- 
vited our new allies to take a cup of coffee with us. When 
both the others had gone over to their side of the camp, 
Jim Gurney still stood by the blaze, puffing hard at his 
little black pipe, as short and weather-beaten as himself. 20 

"Well!" he said, "here are eight of us; we'll call it 
six — for them two boobies, Ellis over yonder, and that 
new man of yours, won't count for anything. We'll get 
through well enough, never fear for that, unless the 
Camanches happen to get foul of us." 25 



CHAPTER XXIII 

INDIAN ALARMS 

"To all the sensual world proclaim, 
One crowded hour of glorious life 
Were worth an age without a name."— Scott. 

We began our journey for the frontier settlements on 
the twenty-seventh of August, and certainly a more raga- 
muffin cavalcade never was seen on the banks of the 
Upper Arkansas. Of the large and fine horses with which 

5 we had left the frontier in the spring, not one remained: 
we had supplied their place with the rough breed of the 
prairie, as hardy as mules and almost as ugly ; we had also 
with us a number of the latter detestable animals. In 
spite of their strength and hardihood, several of the band 

10 were already worn down by hard service and hard fare, 
and as none of them were shod, they were fast becoming 
foot-sore. Every horse and mule had a cord of twisted 
bull-hide coiled around his neck, which by no means 
added to the beauty of his appearance. Our saddles and 

15 all our equipments were by this time lamentably worn and 
battered, and our weapons had become dull and rusty. 
The dress of the riders fully corresponded with the dilapi- 
dated furniture of our horses, and of the whole party 
none made a more disreputable appearance than my 

20 friend and I. Shaw had for an upper garment an old red 

flannel shirt, flying open in front, and belted around him 

like a frock; while I, in absence of other clothing, was 

attired in a time-worn suit of leather. 

Thus, happy and careless as so many beggars, we crept 

25 slowly from day to day along the monotonous banks of 
the Arkansas. Tete Rouge gave constant trouble, for he 
could never catch his mule, saddle her or indeed do 

312 



Indian Alarms 313 

anything else without assistance. Every day he had some 
new ailment, real or imaginary, to complain of. At one 
moment he would be woe-begone and disconsolate, and 
at the next he would be visited with a violent flow of 
spirits, to which he could only give vent by incessant 5 
laughing, whistling, and telling stories. When other 
resources failed, we used to amuse ourselves by torment- 
ing him; a fair compensation for the trouble he cost us. 
Tete Rouge rather enjoyed being laughed at, for he was 
an odd compound of weakness, eccentricity, and good 10 
nature. He made a figure worthy of a painter as he paced 
along before us, perched on the back of his mule, and 
enveloped in a huge buffalo-robe coat, which some charit- 
able person had given him at the fort. This extraordinary 
garment, which would have contained two men of his 15 
size, he chose, for some reason best known to himself, to 
wear inside out, and he never took it off, even in the hot- 
test weather. It was fluttering all over with seams and 
tatters, and the hide was so old and rotten that it broke 
out every day in a new place. Just at the top of it a 20 
large pile of red curls was visible, with his little cap set 
jauntily upon one side to give him a military air. His 
seat in the saddle was no less remarkable than his person 
and equipment. He pressed one leg close against his 
mule's side, and thrust the other out at an angle of forty- 25 
five degrees. His pantaloons were decorated with a mili- 
tary red stripe, of which he was extremely vain; but 
being much too short, the whole length of his boots was 
usually visible below them. His blanket, loosely rolled up 
into a large bundle, dangled at the back of his saddle, 30 
where he carried it tied with a string. Four or five times ■ 
a day it would fall to the ground. Every minute he would 
drop his pipe, his knife, his flint and steel, or a piece of 
tobacco, and have to scramble down to pick them up. In 
doing this he would contrive to get in everybody's way ; 35 
and as the most of the party were by no means remark- 
able for a fastidious choice of language, a storm of 
anathemas would be showered upon him, half in earnest 



314 The Oregon Trail 

and half in jest, until Tete Rouge would declare that 
there was no comfort in life, and that he never saw 
such fellows before. 

Only a day or two after leaving Bent's Fort, Henry 
^ Chatillon rode forward to hunt, and took Ellis along with 
him. After they had been some time absent we saw 
them coming down the hill, driving three dragoon-horses, 
which had escaped from their owners on the march, or 
perhaps had given out and been abandoned. One of 

10 them was in tolerable condition, but the others were 
much emaciated and severely bitten by the wolves. Re- 
duced as they were, we carried two of them to the settle- 
ments, and Henry exchanged the third with the Arapahoes 
for an excellent mule. 

15 On the day after, when we had stopped to rest at noon, 
a long train of Santa Fe wagons came up and trailed 
slowly past us in their picturesque procession. They 
belonged to a trader named Magoffin, whose brother, 
with a number of other men, came over and sat down 

20 around us on the grass. The news they brought was not 
of the most pleasing complexion. According to their ac- 
counts the trail below was in a very dangerous state. 
They had repeatedly detected Indians prowling at night 
around their camps; and the large party which had left 

25 Bent's Fort a few weeks previous to our own departure 
had been attacked, and a man named Swan, from Massa- 
chusetts, had been killed. His companions had buried 
the body; but when Magoffin found his grave, which was 
near a place called " The Caches," the Indians had dug 

30 up and scalped him, and the wolves had shockingly 
mangled his remains. As an offset of this intelligence, 
they gave us the welcome information that the buffalo 
were numerous at a few days' journey below. 

On the next afternoon, as we moved along the bank of 

35 the river, we saw the white tops of wagons on the horizon. 
It was some hours before we met them, when they proved 
to be a train of clumsy ox-wagons, quite different from 
the rakish vehicles of the Santa Fe traders, and loaded 



Indian Alarms 315 

with government stores for the troops. They all stopped, 
and the drivers gathered around us in a crowd. I thought 
that the whole frontier might have been ransacked in 
vain to furnish men worse fitted to meet the dangers of 
the prairie. Many of them were mere boys, fresh from 5 
the plough, and devoid of knowledge and experience. In 
respect to the state of the trail, they confirmed all that 
the Santa Fe men had told us. In passing between the 
Pawnee Fork and " The Caches," their sentinels had 
fired every night at real or imaginary Indians. They said 10 
also that Ewing, a young Kentuckian in the party that 
had gone down before us, had shot an Indian who was 
prowling at evening about the camp. Some of them 
advised us to turn back, and others to hasten forward as 
fast as we could; but they all seemed in such a state of 15 
feverish anxiety, and so little capable of cool judgment, 
that we attached slight weight to what they said. They 
next gave us a more definite piece of intelligence: a large 
village of Arapahoes was encamped on the river below. 
They represented them to be quite friendly ; but some 20 
distinction was to be made between a party of thirty men, 
travelling with oxen, which are of no value in an Indian's 
eyes, and a mere handful like ourselves, with a tempting 
band of mules and horses. This story of the Arapahoes, 
therefore, caused us some anxiety. 25 

Just after leaving the government wagons, as Shaw 
and I were riding along a narrow passage between the 
river-bank and a rough hill that pressed close upon it, 
he heard Tete Rouge's voice behind us. " Halloo ! " he 
called out; " I say, stop the cart just for a minute, will 30 
you?" 

" What's the matter, Tete ? " asked Shaw, as he came 
riding up to us with a grin of exultation. He had a bottle 
of molasses in one hand, and a large bundle of hides on the 
saddle before him, containing, as he triumphantly in- 35 
formed us, sugar, biscuits, coffee, and rice. These sup- 
plies he had obtained by a stratagem on which he greatly 
plumed himself, and he was extremely vexed and aston- 



3i6 The Oregon Trail 

ished that we did not fall in with his views of the matter. 
He had told Coates, the master-wagoner, that the com- 
missary at the fort had given him an order for sick- 
rations, directed to the master of any government train 
5 which he might meet upon the road. This order he had 
unfortunately lost, but he hoped that the rations would 
not be refused on that account, as he was suffering from 
coarse fare and needed them very much. As soon as he 
came to camp that night, Tete Rouge repaired to the box 

10 at the back of the cart, where Deslauriers used to keep 
his culinary apparatus, took possession of a saucepan, and 
after building a little fire of his own, set to work preparing 
a meal out of his ill-gotten booty. This done, he seized 
upon a tin plate and spoon and sat down under the cart 

15 to regale himself. His preliminary repast did not at all 
prejudice his subsequent exertions at supper; where, in 
spite of his miniature dimensions, he made a better figure 
than any of us. Indeed, about this time his appetite grew 
quite voracious. He began to thrive wonderfully. His 

20 small body visibly expanded, and his cheeks, which when 
we first took him were rather yellow and cadaverous, now 
dilated in a wonderful manner, and became ruddy in 
proportion. Tete Rouge, in short, began to appear like 
another man. 

25 Early in the afternoon of the next day, looking along 
the edge of the horizon in front, we saw that at one point 
it was faintly marked with pale indentations, like the 
teeth of a saw. The lodges of the Arapahoes, rising 
between us and the sky, caused this singular appearance. 

30 It wanted still two or three hours of sunset when we came 
opposite their camp. There were full two hundred lodges 
standing in the midst of a grassy meadow at some dis- 
tance beyond the river, while for a mile around and on 
either bank of the Arkansas were scattered some fifteen 

35 hundred horses and mules, grazing together in bands, or 
wandering singly about the prairie. The whole were 
visible at once, for the vast expanse was unbroken by hills, 
and there was not a tree or a bush to intercept the view. 



L 



Indian Alarms 317 

Here and there walked an Indian, engaged in watching 
the horses. No sooner did we see them than Tete Rouge 
begged Deslauriers to stop the cart and hand him his little 
military jacket, which was stowed away there. In this 
he instantly invested himself, having for once laid the old 5 
buffalo coat aside, assumed a most martial posture in the 
saddle, set his cap over his left eye with an air of defi- 
ance, and earnestly entreated that somebody would lend 
him a gun or a pistol only for half an hour. Being called 
upon to explain these remarkable proceedings, Tete Rouge iq 
observed that he knew from experience what effect the 
presence of a military man in his uniform always had upon 
the mind of an Indian, and he thought the Arapahoes 
ought to know that there was a soldier in the party. 

Meeting Arapahoes here on the Arkansas was a very 15 
different thing from meeting the same Indians among 
their native mountains. There were other circumstances 
in our favor. General Kearny had seen them a few 
'weeks before, as he came up the river with his army, 
and renewing his threats of the previous year, he told 20 
them that if they ever again touched the hair of a white 
man's head he would exterminate their nation. This 
placed them for the time in an admirable frame of mind, 
and the effect of his menaces had not yet disappeared. 
I was anxious to see the village and its inhabitants. We 25 
thought it also our best policy to visit them openly, as if 
unsuspicious of any hostile design; and Shaw and I, with 
Henry Chatillon, prepared to cross the river. The rest of 
the party meanwhile moved forward as fast as they could, 
in order to get as far as possible from our suspicious 30 
neighbors before night came on. 

The Arkansas at this point, and for several hundred 
miles below, is nothing but a broad sand-bed, over which 
a few scanty threads of water are swiftly gliding, now and 
then expanding into wide shallows. At several places, 35 
during the autumn, the water sinks into the sand and 
disappears altogether. At this season, were it not for 
the numerous quicksands, the river might be forded almost 



3i8 The Oregon Trail 

anywhere without difficulty, though its channel is often 
a quarter of a mile wide. Our horses jumped down the 
bank, and wading through the water, or galloping freely 
over the hard sand-beds, soon reached the other side. Here, 
5 as we were pushing through the tall grass, we saw several 
Indians not far off; one of them waited until we came 
up, and stood for some moments in perfect silence before 
us, looking at us askance with his little snake-like eyes. 
Henry explained by signs what we wanted, and the In- 

10 dian, gathering his buffalo-robe about his shoulders, led 
the way toward the village without speaking a word. 

The language of the Arapahoes is so difficult, and its 
pronunciation so harsh and guttural, that no white man, 
it is said, has ever been able to master it. Even Maxwell, 

15 the trader who has been most among them, is compelled 
to resort to the curious sign-language common to most 
of the prairie-tribes. With this Henry Chatillon was 
perfectly acquainted. 

Approaching the village, we found the ground all 

20 around it strewn with great piles of waste buffalo-meat in 
incredible quantities. The lodges were pitched in a very 
wide circle. They resembled those of the Dahcotah in 
everything but cleanliness and neatness. Passing between 
two of them, we entered the great circular area of the 

25 camp, and instantly hundreds of Indians — men, women, 
and children — came flocking out of their habitations to 
look at us; at the same time the dogs all around the vil- 
lage set up a fearful baying. Our Indian guide walked 
toward the lodge of the chief. Here we dismounted; and 

30 loosening the trail-ropes from our horses' necks, held them 
securely, and sat down before the entrance, with our 
rifles laid across our laps. The chief came out and shook 
us by the hand. He was a mean-looking fellow, very tall, 
thin-visaged, and sinewy, like the rest of the nation, and 

35 with scarcely a vestige of clothing. We had not been 
seated half a minute before a multitude of Indians came 
crowding around us from every part of the village, and 
we were shut in by a dense wall of savage faces. Some 



Indian Alarms 319 

of the Indians crouched around us on the ground; others 
again sat behind them; others, stooping, looked over 
their heads; while many more stood crowded behind, 
stretching themselves upward, and peering over each 
other's shoulders, to get a view of us. I looked in vain 5 
among this multitude of faces to discover one manly or 
generous expression ; all were wolfish, sinister, and malig- 
nant, and their complexions, as well as their features, 
unlike those of the Dahcotah, were exceedingly bad. The 
chief, who sat close to the entrance, called to a squaw lo 
within the lodge, who soon came out and placed a wooden 
bowl of meat before us. To our surprise, however, no 
pipe was offered. Having tasted of the meat as a matter 
of form, I began to open a bundle of presents — tobacco, 
knives, vermilion, and other articles which I had brought 15 
with me. At this there was a grin on every countenance 
in the rapacious crowd; their eyes began to glitter, and 
long, thin arms were eagerly stretched toward us on all 
sides to receive the gifts. 

The Arapahoes set great value upon their shields, 20 
which they transmit carefully from father to son. I 
wished to get one of them; and displaying a large piece 
of scarlet cloth, together with some tobacco and a knife, I 
offered them to any one who would bring me what I 
wanted. After some delay a tolerable shield was pro- 25 
duced. They were very anxious to know what we meant 
to do with it, and Henry told them that we were going to 
fight their enemies, the Pawnees. This instantly produced 
a visible impression in our favor, which was increased by 
the distribution of the presents. Among these was a large 30 
paper of awls, a gift appropriate to the women; and as 
we were anxious to see the beauties of the Arapahoe 
village, Henry requested that they might be called to 
receive them. A warrior gave a shout, as if he were 
calling a pack of dogs together. The squaws, young and 35 
old, hags of eighty and girls of sixteen, came running 
with screams and laughter out of the lodges; and as the 
men gave way for them, they gathered around us and 



320 The Oregon Trail 

stretched out their arms, grinning with delight, their 
native ugliness considerably enhanced by the excitement 
of the moment. 

Mounting our horses, which during the whole inter- 

5 view we had held close to us, we prepared to leave the 
Arapahoes. The crowd fell back on each side, and stood' 
looking on. When we were half-across the camp an idea 
occurred to us. The Pawnees were probably in the neigh- 
borhood of ''The Caches"; we might tell the Arapahoes 

10 of this, and instigate them to send down a war-party 
and cut them off, while we ourselves could remain behind 
for a while and hunt the buffalo. At first thought this 
plan of setting our enemies to destroy one another seemed 
to us a masterpiece of policy; but we immediately recol- 

15 lected that, should we meet the Arapahoe warriors on 
the river below, they might prove quite as dangerous as 
the Pawnees themselves. So, rejecting our plan as soon 
as it presented itself, we passed out of the village on the 
farther side. We urged our horses rapidly through the 

20 tall grass which rose to their necks. Several Indians 
were walking through it at a distance, their heads just 
visible above its waving surface. It bore a kind of seed, 
as sweet and nutritious as oats; and our hungry horses, 
in spite of whip and rein, could not resist the temptation 

25 of snatching at this unwonted luxury as we passed along. 
When about a mile from the village, I turned and looked 
back over the undulating ocean of grass. The sun was 
just set; the western sky was all in a glow, and sharply 
defined against it, on the extreme verge of the plain, 

30 stood the numerous lodges of the Arapahoe camp. 

Reaching the bank of the river, we followed it for some 
distance farther, until we discerned through the twilight 
the white covering of our little cart on the opposite bank. 
When we reached it we found a considerable number of 

35 Indians there before us. Four or five of them were seated 
in a row upon the ground, looking like so many half- 
starved vultures. Tete Rouge, in his uniform, was hold- 
ing a close colloquy with another by the side of the cart. 



Indian Alarms 321 

His gesticulations, his attempts at sign-making, and the 
contortions of his countenance, were most ludicrous; and 
finding all these of no avail, he tried to make the Indian 
understand him by repeating English words very loudly 
and distinctly again and again. The Indian sat with 5. 
his eye fixed steadily upon him, and in spite of the rigid 
immobility of his features, it was clear at a glance that 
he perfectly understood his military companion's charac- 
ter and thoroughly despised him. The exhibition was 
more amusing than politic, and Tete Rouge was directed 10 
to finish what he had to say as soon as possible. Thus 
rebuked, he crept under the cart and sat down there; 
Henry Chatillon stooped to look at him in his retirement, 
and remarked in his quiet manner that an Indian would 
kill ten such men and laugh all the time. 15 

One by one our visitors arose and stalked away. As 
the darkness thickened we were saluted by dismal sounds. 
The wolves are incredibly numerous in this part of the 
country, and the offal around the Arapahoe camp had 
drawn such multitudes of them together that several 20 
hundreds were howling in concert in our immediate neigh- 
borhood. There was an island in the river, or rather 
an oasis in the midst of the sands, at about the distance 
of a gun-shot, and here they seemed gathered in the 
greatest numbers. A horrible discord of low, mournful 25 
wailings, mingled with ferocious howls, arose from it 
incessantly for several hours after sunset. We could 
distinctly see the wolves running about the prairie within 
a few rods of our fire, or bounding over the sand-beds of 
the river and splashing through the water. There was not 30 
the slightest danger to be feared from them, for they 
are the greatest cowards on the prairie. 

In respect to the human wolves in our neighborhood 
we felt much less at our ease. We seldom erected our 
tent except in bad weather, and that night each man 35 
spread his buffalo-robe upon the ground with his loaded 
rifle laid at his side or clasped in his arms. Our horses 
were picketed so close around us that one of them repeat- 



322 The Oregon Trail 

ediy stepped over me as I lay. We were not in the habit 
of placing a guard, but every man that night was anxious 
and watchful; there was little sound sleeping in camp, 
and some one of the party was on his feet during the 
G greater part of the time. For myself, I lay alternately 
waking and dozing until midnight. Tete Rouge was 
reposing close to the river-bank, and about this time, when 
half -asleep and half -awake, I was conscious that he shifted 
his position and crept on all-fours under the cart. Soon 

10 after I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was aroused 
by a hand shaking me by the shoulder. Looking up, I saw 
Tete Rouge stooping over me with his face quite pale and 
his eyes dilated to their utmost expansion. 
"What's the matter?" said I. 

15 Tete Rouge declared that as he lay on the river-bank 
something caught his eye which excited his suspicions. 
So creeping under the cart for safety's sake, he sat there 
and watched, when he saw two Indians, wrapped in white 
robes, creep up the bank, seize upon two horses, and 

20 lead them off. He looked so frightened and told his 
story in such a disconnected manner that I did not be- 
lieve him, and was unwilling to alarm the party. Still 
it might be true, and in that case the matter required 
instant attention. There would be no time for examina- 

25 tion, and so directing Tete Rouge to show me which way 
the Indians had gone, I took my rifle, in obedience to a 
thoughtless impulse, and left the camp. I followed the 
river back for two or three hundred yards, listening and 
looking anxiously on every side. In the dark prairie on 

30 the right I coiild discern nothing to excite alarm; and in 
the dusky bed of the river a wolf was bounding along in 
a manner which no Indian could imitate. I returned to 
the camp, and when within sight of it saw that the whole 
party was aroused. Shaw called out to me that he had 

35 counted the horses, and that every one of them was in 
his place. Tete Rouge, being examihed as to what he 
had seen, only repeated his former story with many 
asseverations, and insisted that two horses were certainly 



Indian Alarms 323 

carried off. At this Jim Gurney declared that he was 
crazy; Tete Rouge indignantly denied the charge, on 
which Jim appealed to us. As we declined to give our 
judgment on so delicate a matter, the dispute grew hot 
between Tete Rouge and his accuser, until he was directed 5 
to go to bed and not alarm the camp again if he saw the 
whole Arapahoe village coming. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

THE CHASE 

** Mightiest of all the beasts of chase, 
That roam in woody Caledon, 
Crashing the forest in his race, 
The mountain Bull comes thundering on." 

Cadyow Castle. 

The country before us was now thronged with buffalo, 
and a sketch of the manner of hunting them will not be 
out of place. There are two methods commonly prac- 
tised — " running " and " approaching." The chase on 

5 horseback, which goes by the name of " running," is the 
more violent and dashing of the two. Indeed, of all 
American wild sports this is the wildest. Once among 
the buffalo, the hunter, unless long use has made him 
familiar with the situation, dashes forward in utter reck- 

10 lessness and self-abandonment. He thinks of nothing, 
cares for nothing, but the game; his mind is stimulated 
to the highest pitch, yet intensely concentrated on one 
object. In the midst of the flying herd, where the uproar 
and the dust are thickest, it never wavers for a moment; 

15 he drops the rein and abandons his horse to his furious 
career ; he levels his gun, the report sounds faint amid the 
thunder of the buffalo; and when his wounded enemy 
leaps in vain fury upon him, his heart thrills with a feel- 
ing like the fierce delight of the battlefield. A practised 

20 and skilful hunter, well mounted, will sometimes kill five 
or six cows in a single chase, loading his gun again and 
again as his horse rushes through the tumult. An exploit 
like this is quite beyond the capacities of a novice. In 
attacking a small band of buffalo, or in separating a single 

25 animal from the herd and assailing it apart from the rest, 
there is less excitement and less danger. With a bold and 

334 



The Chase 325 

well-trained horse the hunter may ride so dose to the 
buffalo that, as they gallop side by side, he may reach over 
and touch him with his hand; nor is there much danger 
in this as long as the buffalo's strength and breath con- 
tinue unabated ; but when he becomes tired and can no 5 
longer run with ease, when his tongue lolls out and the 
foam flies from his jaws, then the hunter had better keep 
a more respectful distance; the distressed brute may turn 
upon him at any instant; and especially at the moment 
when he fires his gun. The wounded buffalo springs at 10 
his enemy; the horse leaps violently aside; and then the 
hunter has need of a tenacious seat in the saddle, for if he 
is thrown to the ground there is no hope for him. When 
he sees his attack defeated, the buffalo resumes his flight, 
but if the shot be well directed he soon stops ; for a few 15 
moments he stand still, then totters and falls heavily 
upon the prairie. 

The chief difficulty in running buffalo, as it seems to 
me, is that of loading the gun or pistol at full gallop. 
Many hunters for convenience' sake carry three or four 20 
bullets in the mouth; the powder is poured down the 
muzzle of the piece, the bullet dropped in after it, the 
stock struck hard upon the pommel of the saddle, and 
the work is done. The danger of this method is obvious. 
Should the blow on the pommel fail to send the bullet 25 
home, or should the latter, in the act of aiming, start 
from its place and roll toward the muzzle, the gun would 
probably burst in discharging. Many a shattered hand 
and worse casualties besides have been the result of such 
an accident. To obviate it, some hunters make use of a 30 
ramrod, usually hung by a string from the neck, but 
this materially increases the difficulty of loading. The 
bows and arrows which the Indians use in running buffalo 
have many advantages over fire-arms, and even white men 
occasionally employ them. 35 

The danger of the chase arises not so much from the 
onset of the wounded animal as from the nature of the 
ground over which the hunter must ride. The prairie does 



326 The Oregon Trail 

not always present a smooth, level, and uniform surface; 
very often it is broken with hills and hollows, intersected 
by ravines, and in the remoter parts studded by the 
stiff wild-sage bushes. The most formidable obstructions, 
5 however, are the burrows of wild animals — wolves, bad- 
gers, and particularly prairie-dogs — with whose holes the 
ground for a very great extent is frequently honeycombed. 
In the blindness of the chase the hunter rushes over it 
unconscious of danger; his horse, at full career, thrusts 

10 his leg deep into one of the burrows; the bone snaps, 
the rider is hurled forward to the ground and probably 
killed. Yet accidents in buffalo running happen less 
frequently than one would suppose; in the recklessness 
of the chase the hunter enjoys all the impunity of a 

15 drunken man, and may ride in safety over the gullies 
and declivities, where, should he attempt to pass in his 
sober senses, he would infallibly break his neck. 

The method of " approaching," being practised on foot, 
has many advantages over that of " running " ; in the 

20 former, one neither breaks down his horse nor endangers 
his own life; instead of yielding to excitement, he must 
be cool, collected, and watchful; he must understand the 
buffalo, observe the features of the country and the 
course of the wind, and be well skilled, moreover, in using 

25 the rifle. The buffalo are strange animals ; sometimes 
they are so stupid and infatuated that a man may walk 
up to them in full sight on the open prairie, and even 
shoot several of their number before the rest will think 
it necessary to retreat. Again, at another moment, they 

30 will be so shy and wary that in order to approach them 
the utmost skill, experience, and judgment are necessary. 
Kit Carson, I believe, stands pre-eminent in running 
buffalo ; in approaching, no man living can bear away the 
palm from Henry Chatillon. 

35 To resume the story. After Tete Rouge had alarmed 
the camp, no further disturbance occurred during the 
night. The Arapahoes did not attempt mischief, or if 
they did the wakefulness of the party deterred them from 



The Chase 327 

effecting their purpose. The next day was one of activity 
and excitement, for about ten o'clock the man in advance 
shouted the gladdening cry of buffalo ! buffalo ! and in the 
hollow of the prairie just below us, a band of bulls were 
grazing. The temptation was irresistible, and Shaw and 5 
I rode down upon them. We were badly mounted on our 
travelling horses, but by hard lashing we overtook them, 
and Shaw, running alongside of a bull, shot into him b^th 
balls of his double-barrelled gun. Looking around as I 
galloped past, I saw the bull in his mortal fury rushing 10 
again and again upon his antagonist, whose horse con- 
stantly leaped aside and avoided the onset. My chase 
was more protracted, but at length I ran close to the 
bull and killed him with my pistols. Cutting off the tails 
of our victims by way of trophy, we rejoined the party 15 
in about a quarter of an hour after we left it. Again 
and again that morning rang out the same welcome cry 
of buffalo! buffalo! Every few moments, in the broad 
meadows along the river, we would see bands of bulls, 
who, raising their shaggy heads, would gaze in stupid 20 
amazement at the approaching horsemen, and then break- 
ing into a clumsy gallop, would file off in a long line 
across the trail in front, toward the rising prairie on the 
left. At noon the whole plain before us was alive with 
thousands of buffalo — bulls, cows, and calves — all moving 25 
rapidly as we drew near ; and far-off beyond the river the 
swelling prairie was darkened with them to the very hori- 
zon. The party was in gayer spirits than ever. We stopped 
for a " nooning " near a grove of trees by the river-side. 

" Tongues and hump-ribs to-morrow," said Shaw, look- 30 
ing with contempt at the venison steaks which Deslauriers 
placed before us. Our meal finished, we lay down under 
a temporary awning to sleep. A shout from Henry Cha- 
tillon aroused us, and we saw him standing on the cart- 
wheel, stretching his tall figure to its full height while he 35 
looked toward the prairie beyond the river. Following 
the direction of his eyes, we could clearly distinguish a 
large dark object, like the black shadow of a cloud, 



328 The Oregon Trail 

passing rapidly over swell after swell of the distant plain ; 
behind it followed another of similar appearance, though 
smaller. Its motion was more rapid, and it drew closer 
and closer to the first. It was the hunters of the Arapa- 
5 hoe camp pursuing a band of buffalo. Shaw and I hastily 
caught and saddled our best horses, and went plunging 
through sand and water to the farther bank. We were too 
late. The hunters had already mingled with the herd, and 
the work of slaughter was nearly over. When we reached 

10 the ground we found it strewn far and near with number- 
less black carcasses, while the remnants of the herd, 
scattered in all directions, were flying away in terror, and 
the Indians still rushing in pursuit. Many of the hunters, 
however, remained upon the spot, and among the rest was 

15 our yesterday's acquaintance, the chief of the village. 
He had alighted by the side of a cow, into which he had 
shot five or six arrows, and his squaw, who had followed 
him on horseback to the hunt, was giving him a draught 
of water out of a canteen, purchased or plundered from 

20 some volunteer soldier. Recrossing the river, we over- 
took the party, who were already on their way. 

We had scarcely gone a mile when an imposing spectacle 
presented itself. From the river-bank on the right, away 
over the swelling prairie on the left, and in front as far as 

25 we could see, extended one vast host of buffalo. The 
outskirts of the herd were within a quarter of a mile. In 
many parts they were crowded so densely together that 
in the distance their rounded backs presented a surface of 
uniform blackness; but elsewhere they were more scat- 

30 tered, and from amid the multitude arose little columns of 
dust where the buffalo were rolling on the ground. Here 
and there a great confusion was perceptible, where a 
battle was going forward among the bulls. We could 
distinctly see them rushing against each other, and hear 

35 the clattering of their horns and their hoarse bellowing. 
Shaw was riding at some distance in advance with Henry 
Chatillon, I saw him stop and draw the leather covering 
from his gun. Indeed, with such a sight before us, but 



I 



The Chase 329 

one thing could be thought of. That morning I had used 
pistols in the chase. I had now a mind to try the virtue 
of a gun. Deslauriers had one, and I rode up to the side 
of the cart ; there he sat under the white covering, biting 
his pipe between his teeth and grinning with excitement. 5 

" Lend me your gun, Deslauriers," said I. 

" Oui, Monsieur, oui," said Deslauriers, tugging with 
might and main to stop the mule, which seemed obstinately 
bent on going forward. Then everything but his moc- 
casins disappeared as he crawled into the cart and pulled 10 
at the gun to extricate it. 

"Is it loaded?" I asked. 

" Oui, bien charge, you'll kill, mon bourgeois ; yes, 
you'll kill — c'est un bon fusil." 

I handed him my rifle and rode forward to Shaw. 15 

" Are you ready ? " he asked. 

" Come on," said I. 

" Keep down that hollow," said Henry, " and then they 
won't see you till you get close to them." 

The hollow was a kind of ravine, very wide and shal- 20 
low ; it ran obliquely toward the buffalo, and we rode at a 
canter along the bottom until it became too shallow; 
when we bent close to our horses' necks, and then finding 
that it could no longer conceal us, we came out of it and 
rode directly toward the herd. It was within gun-shot ; be- 25 
fore its outskirts numerous grizzly old bulls were scattered, 
holding guard over their females. They glared at us in 
anger and astonishment, walked toward us a few yards, 
and then turning slowly around retreated at a trot, which 
afterward broke into a clumsy gallop. In an instant the 30 
main body caught the alarm. The buffalo began to crowd 
away from the point toward which we were approaching, 
and a gap was opened in the side of the herd. We entered 
it, still restraining our excited horses. Every instant the 
tumult was thickening. The buffalo pressing together in 35 
large bodies, crowded away from us on every hand. In 
front and on either side we could see dark columns and 
masses, half -hidden by clouds of dust, rushing along in 



330 The Oregon Trail 

terror and confusion, and hear the tramp and clattering- 
of ten thousand hoofs. That countless multitude of 
powerful brutes, ignorant of their own strength, were 
flying in a panic from the approach of two feeble horse- 

5 men. To remain quiet longer was impossible. 

"Take that band on the left," said Shaw; "I'll take 
these in front." 

He sprang off, and I saw no more of him. A heavy- 
Indian whip was fastened by a band to my wrist ; I swung 

10 it into the air and lashed my horse's flank with all the 
strength of my arm. Away she darted, stretching close 
to the ground. I could see nothing but a cloud of dust 
before me, but I knew that it concealed a band of many 
hundreds of buffalo. In a moment I was in the midst of 

15 the cloud, half-suffocated by the dust and stunned by the 
trampling of the flying herd; but I was drunk with the 
chase and cared for nothing but the buffalo. Very soon 
a long dark mass became visible, looming through the 
dust; then I could distinguish each bulky carcass, the 

20 hoofs flying out beneath, the short tails held rigidly erect. 
In a moment I was so close that I could have touched them 
with my gun. Suddenly, to my utter amazement, the 
hoofs were jerked upward, the tails flourished in the air, 
and amid a cloud of dust the buffalo seemed to sink into 

25 the earth before me. One vivid impression of that instant 
remains upon my mind. I remember looking down upon 
the backs of several buffalo dimly visible through the dust. 
We had run unawares upon a ravine. At that moment I 
was not the most accurate judge of depth and width, 

30 but when I passed it on my return, I found it about twelve 
feet deep and not quite twice as wide at the bottom. It 
was impossible to stop; I would have done so gladly if I 
could; so, half-sliding, half-plunging, down went the 
little mare. I believe she came down on her knees in the 

35 loose sand at the bottom ; I was pitched forward violently 
against her neck and nearly thrown over her head among 
the buffalo, who, amid dust and confusion, came tumbling 
in all around. The mare was on her feet in an instant, and 



The Chase 331 

scrambling like a cat up the opposite side. I thought for 
a moment that she would have fallen back and crushed me, 
but with a violent effort she scrambled out and gained the 
hard prairie above. Glancing back, I saw the huge head of 
a bull clinging as it were by the forefeet at the edge of 5 
the dusty gulf. At length I was fairly among the buffalo. 
They were less densely crowded than before, and I could 
see nothing but bulls, who always ran at the rear of a 
herd. As I pressed amid them they would lower their 
heads, and turning as they ran, attempt to gore my 10 
horse ; but as they were already at full speed there was no 
force in their onset, and as Pauline ran faster than they, 
they were always thrown behind her in the effort. I soon 
began to distinguish cows amid the throng. One just in 
front of me seemed to my liking, and I pushed close to 15 
her side. Dropping the reins, I fired, holding the muzzle 
of the gun within a foot of her shoulder. Quick as light- 
ning she sprang at Pauline; the little mare dodged the 
attack, and I lost sight of the wounded animal amid the 
tumultuous crowd. Immediately after I selected another, 20 
and urging forward Pauline, shot into her both pistols in 
succession. For a while I kept her in view, but in attempt- 
ing to load my gun, lost sight of her also in the confusion. 
Believing her to be mortally wounded and unable to keep 
up with the herd, I checked my horse. The crowd rushed 25 
onward. The dust and tumult passed away, and on the 
prairie, far behind the rest, I saw a solitary buffalo gal- 
loping heavily. In a moment I and my victim were run- 
ning side by side. My firearms were all empty, and I 
had in my pouch nothing but rifle-bullets, too large for 30 
the pistols and too small for the gun. I loaded the latter, 
however, but as often as I levelled it to fire, the little 
bullets would roll out of the muzzle and the gun returned 
only a faint report like a squib, as the powder harmlessly 
exploded. I galloped in front of the buffalo and attempted 35 
to turn her back; but her eyes glared, her mane bristled, 
and lowering her head, she rushed at me with astonishing 
fierceness and activity. Again and again I rode before 



332 The Oregon Trail 

her, and again and again she repeated her furious charge. 
But little Pauline was in her element. She dodged her 
enemy at every rush, until a length the buffalo stood still, 
exhausted with her own efforts; she panted, and her 
5 tongue hung lolling from her jaws. 

Riding to a little distance, I alighted, thinking to 
gather a handful of dry grass to serve the purpose of wad- 
ding, and load the gun at my leisure. No sooner were 
my feet on the ground than the buffalo came bounding 

10 in such a rage toward me that I jumped back again into 
the saddle with all possible dispatch. After waiting a 
few minutes more, I made an attempt to ride up and 
stab her with my knife; but the experiment proved such 
as no wise man would repeat. At length, bethinking me 

15 of the fringes at the seams of my buckskin pantaloons, 
I jerked off a few of them, and reloading the gun, forced 
them down the barrel to keep the bullet in its place ; then 
approaching, I shot the wounded buffalo through the 
heart. Sinking to her knees, she rolled over lifeless on 

20 the prairie. To my astonishment I found that instead 
of a fat cow I had been slaughtering a stout yearling bull. 
No longer wondering at the fierceness he had shown, I 
opened his throat, and cutting out his tongue, tied it at 
the back of my saddle. My mistake was one which a 

25 more experienced eye than mine might easily make in 
the dust and confusion of such a chase. 

Then for the first time I had leisure to look at the scene 
around me. The prairie in front was darkened with the 
retreating multitude, and on the other hand the T^uffalo 

30 came filing up in endless unbroken columns from the low 
plains upon the river. The Arkansas was three or four 
miles distant. I turned and moved slowly toward it. A 
long time passed before, far down in the distance, I dis- 
tinguished the white covering of the cart and the little 

35 black specks of horsemen before and behind it. Drawing 
near, I recognized Shaw's elegant tunic, the red flannel 
shirt, conspicuous far off. I overtook the party, and 
asked him what success he had met with. He had assailed 



The Chase 333 

a Mt cow, shot her with two bullets, and mortally wounded 
her. But neither of us was prepared for the chase that 
afternoon, and Shaw, like myself, had no spare bullets 
in his pouch; so he abandoned the disabled animal to 
Henry Chatillon, who followed, dispatched her with his 5 
rifle, and loaded his horse with her meat. 

We encamped close to the river. The night was dark, 
and as we lay down we could hear mingled with the 
bowlings of wolves the hoarse bellowing of the buffalo, 
like the ocean beating upon a distant coast. 10 



CHAPTER XXV 

THE BUFFALO-CAMP 

" In pastures measureless as air, 
The bison is my noble game." — Bryant. 

No one in the camp was more active than Jim Gurney, 
and no one half so lazy as Ellis. Between these two there 
was a great antipathy. Ellis never stirred in the morning 

5 until he was compelled to, but Jim was always on his 
feet before daybreak; and this morning as usual the sound 
of his voice awakened the party. 

" Get up, you booby ! up with you now, you're fit for 
nothing but eating and sleeping. Stop your grumbling and 

10 come out of that buffalo-robe, or I'll pull it off for 
you." 

Jim's words were interspersed with numerous exple- 
tives, which gave them great additional effect. Ellis 
drawled out something in a nasal tone from among the 

15 folds of his buffalo-robe; then slowly disengaged himself, 
rose into a sitting-posture, stretched his long arms, yawned 
hideously, and, finally raising his tall person erect, stood 
staring around him to all the four quarters of the horizon. 
Deslauriers's fire was soon blazing, and the horses and 

20 mules, loosened from their pickets, were feeding on the 
neighboring meadow. When we sat down to breakfast 
the prairie was still in the dusky light of morning; and as 
the sun rose we were mounted and on our way again. 
" A white buffalo ! " exclaimed Munroe. 

25 " I'll have that fellow," said Shaw, " if I run my horse 
to death after him." 

He threw the cover of his gun to Deslauriers and gal- 
loped out upon the prairie. 

334 



The Buffalo-Camp 335 

" Stop, Mr. Shaw, stop ! " called out Henry Chatillon, 
" you'll run down your horse for nothing ; it's only a 
white ox." 

But Shaw was already out of hearing. The ox, who 
had no doubt strayed away from some of the government 5 
wagon-trains, was standing beneath some low hills which 
bounded the plain in the distance. Not far from him a 
band of veritable buffalo-bulls were grazing; and startled 
at Shaw's approach, they all broke into a run and went 
scrambling up the hillsides to gain the high prairie above. 10 
One of them in his haste and terror involved himself in a 
fatal catastrophe. Along the foot of the hills was a nar- 
row strip of deep marshy soil, into which the bull plunged 
and hopelessly entangled himself. We all rode up to the 
spot. The huge carcass was half-sunk in the mud which 15 
flowed to his very chin, and his shaggy mane was out- 
spread upon the surface. As we came near the bull began 
to struggle with convulsive strength; he writhed to and 
fro, and in the energy of his fright and desperation would 
lift himself for a moment half out of the slough, while 20 
the reluctant mire returned a sucking sound as he strained 
to drag his limbs from its tenacious depths. We stimu- 
lated his exertions by getting behind him and twisting 
his tail; nothing would do. There was clearly no hope 
for him. After every effort his heaving sides were more 25 
deeply imbedded, and the mire almost overflowed his 
nostrils; he lay still, at length, and looking around at us 
with a furious eye, seemed to resign himself to his fate. 
Ellis slowly dismounted, and deliberately levelling his 
boasted yager, shot the old bull through the heart ; then 30 
he lazily climbed back again to his seat, pluming himself 
no doubt on having actually killed a buffalo. That day 
the invincible yager drew blood for the first and last time 
during the whole journey. 

The morning was a bright and gay one, and the air 35 
so clear that on the farthest horizon the outline of the 
pale-blue prairie was sharply drawn against the sky. 
Shaw felt in the mood for hunting; he rode in advance 



336 The Oregon Trail 

of the party, and before long we saw a file of bulls gallop- 
ing at full speed upon a vast green swell of the prairie at 
some distance in front. Shaw came scouring along behind 
them, arrayed in his red shirt, which looked very well in 

5 the distance ; he gained fast on the fugitives, and as the 
foremost bull was disappearing behind the summit of the 
swell, we saw him in the act of assailing the hindermost ; a 
smoke sprang from the muzzle of his gun, and floated 
away before the wind like a little white cloud; the bull 

10 turned upon him, and just then the rising ground con- 
cealed them both from view. 

We were moving forward until about noon, when we 
stopped by the side of the Arkansas. At that moment 
Shaw appeared riding slowly down the side of a distant 

15 hill ; his horse was tired and jaded, and when he threw his 
saddle upon the ground, I observed that the tails of two 
bulls were dangling behind it. No sooner were the horses 
turned loose to feed than Henry, asking Munroe to go 
with him, took his rifle and walked quietly away. Shaw, 

20Tete Rouge, and I sat down by the side of the cart to dis- 
cuss the dinner which Deslauriers placed before us; we 
had scarcely finished when we saw Munroe walking 
toward us along the river-bank. Henry, he said, had 
killed four fat cows, and had sent him back for horses to 

25 bring in the meat. Shaw took a horse for himself and 
another for Henry, and he and Munroe left the camp 
together. After a short absence all three of them came 
back, their horses loaded with the choicest parts of the 
meat ; we kept two of the cows for ourselves and gave the 

30 others to Munroe and his companions. Deslauriers seated 
himself on the grass before the pile of meat, and worked 
industriously for some time to cut it into thin broad 
sheets for drying. This is no easy matter, but Deslauriers 
had all the skill of an Indian squaw. Long before night 

35 cords of raw-hide were stretched around the camp, and 
the meat was hung upon them to dry in the sunshine and 
pure air of the prairie. Our California companions were 
less successful at the work ; but they accomplished it after 



The Buffalo-Camp 337 

their own fashion, and their side of the camp, was soon 
garnished in the same manner as our own. 

We meant to remain at this place long enough to pre- 
pare provisions for our journey to the frontier, which, 
as we supposed, might occupy about a month. Had the 5 
distance been twice as great and the party ten times as 
large, the unerring rifle of Henry Chatillon would have 
supplied meat enough for the whole within two days; we 
were obliged to remain, however, until it should be dry 
enough for transportation; so we erected our tent and 10 
made other arrangements for a permanent camp. The 
California men, who had no such shelter, contented 
themselves with arranging their packs on the grass around 
their fire. In the meantime we had nothing to do but 
amuse ourselves. Our tent was within a rod of the 15 
river, if the broad sand-beds, with a scanty stream of 
water coursing here and there along their surface, deserve 
to be dignified with the name of river. The vast flat 
plains on either side were almost on a level with the 
sand-beds, and they were bounded in the distance by low, 20 
monotonous hills, parallel to the course of the Arkansas. 
All was one expanse of grass ; there was no wood in view, 
except some trees and stunted bushes upon two islands 
which rose from amid the wet sands of the river. Yet 
far from being dull and tame, this boundless scene was 25 
often a wild and animated one ; for twice a day, at sunrise 
and noon, the buffalo came issuing from the hills, slowly 
advancing in their grave processions to drink at the river. 
All our amusements were to be at their expense. Except 
an elephant, I have seen no animal that can surpass a 30 
buffalo-bull in size and strength, and the world may be 
searched in vain to find anything of a more ugly and 
ferocious aspect. At first sight of him every feeling of 
sympathy vanishes; no man who has not experienced it 
can understand with what' keen relish one inflicts his 35 
death-wound, with what profound contentment of mind 
he beholds him fall. The cows are much smaller and of 
a gentler appearance, as becomes their sex. While in this 



338 The Oregon Trail 

camp we forebore to attack them, leaving to Henry Cha- 
tillon, who could better judge their fatness and good 
quality, the task of killing such as we wanted for use ; but 
against the bulls we waged an unrelenting war. Thou- 

5 sands of them might be slaughtered without causing any 
detriment to the species, for their numbers greatly exceed 
those of the cows ; it is the hides of the latter alone which 
are used for the purpose of commerce and for making the 
lodges of the Indians ; and the destruction among them is 

10 therefore altogether disproportioned. 

Our horses were tired, and we now usually hunted on 
foot. The wide, flat sand-beds of the Arkansas, as the 
reader will remember, lay close by the side of our camp. 
While we were lying on the grass after dinner, smoking, 

15 conversing, or laughing at Tete Rouge, one of us would 
look up and observe, far out on the plains beyond the 
river, certain black objects slowly approaching. He 
would inhale a parting whiff from the pipe, then rising 
lazily, take his rifle, which leaned against the cart, throw 

20 over his shoulder the strap of his pouch and powder-horn, 
and with his moccasins in his hand, walk quietly across 
the sand toward the opposite side of the river. This was 
very easy ; for though the sands were about a quarter of a 
mile wide, the water was nowhere more than two feet 

25 deep. The farther bank was about four or five feet high, 
and quite perpendicular, being cut away by the water in 
spring. Tall grass grew along its edge. Putting it aside 
with his hand, and cautiously looking through it, the 
hunter can discern the huge shaggy back of the buffalo 

30 slowly sway to and fro, as, with his clumsy, swinging 
gait, he advances toward the water. The buffalo have 
regular paths by which they come down to drink. Seeing 
at a glance along which of these his intended victim 
is coming, the hunter crouches under the bank within 

35 fifteen or twenty yards, it may be, of the point where the 
path enters the river. Here he sits down quietly on the 
sand. Listening intently, he hears the heavy monotonous 
tread of the approaching bull. The moment after, he sees 



The Buffalo-Camp 339 

a motion among the long weeds and grass just at the spot 
where the path is channelled through the bank. An 
enormous black head is thrust out, the horns just visible 
amid the mass of tangled mane. Half-sliding, half- 
plunging, down comes the buffalo upon the river-bed ^ 
below. He steps out in full sight upon the sands. Just 
before him a runnel of water is gliding, and he bends his 
head to drink. You may hear the water as it gurgles 
down his capacious throat. He raises his head, and the 
drops trickle from his wet beard. He stands with an air 10 
of stupid abstraction, unconscious of the lurking danger. 
Noiselessly the hunter cocks his rifle. As he sits upon the 
sand, his knee is raised, and his elbow rests upon it, that 
he may level his heavy weapon with a steadier aim. The 
stock is at his shoulder ; his eye ranges along the barrel. 15 
Still he is in no haste to fire. The bull, with slow delibera- 
tion, begins his march over the sands to the other side. 
He advances his fore-leg and exposes to view a small 
spot, denuded of hair, just behind the point of his shoul- 
der; upon this the hunter brings the sight of his rifle to 20 
bear; lightly and delicately his finger presses upon the 
hair-trigger. Quick as thought the spiteful crack of the 
rifle responds to his slight touch, and instantly in the 
middle of the bare spot appears a small red dot. The 
bufifalo shivers ; death has overtaken him, he cannot tell 25 
from whence; still he does not fall, but walks heavily 
forward, as if nothing had happened. Yet before he has 
advanced far out upon the sand, you see him stop; he 
totters ; his knees bend under him, and his head sinks for- 
ward to the ground. Then his whole vast bulk sways to 30 
one side ; he rolls over on the sand, and dies with a scarcely 
perceptible struggle. 

Waylaying the buffalo in this manner, and shooting 
them as they come to water, is the easiest and laziest 
method of hunting them. They may also be approached 35 
by crawling up ravines, or behind hills, or even over the 
open prairie. This is often surprisingly easy; but at other 
times it requires the utmost skill of the most experienced 



340 The Oregon Trail 

hunter. Henry Chatillon was a man of extraordinary 
strength and hardihood; but I have seen him return to 
camp quite exhausted with his efforts, his limbs scratched 
and wounded, and his buckskin dress stuck full of the 
6 thorns of the prickly-pear, among which he had been 
crawling. Sometimes he would lie flat upon his face, 
and drag himself along in this position for many rods 
together. 

On the second day of our stay at this place, Henry 

10 went out for an afternoon hunt. Shaw and I remained 
in camp, until, observing some bulls approaching the 
water upon the other side of the river, we crossed over 
to attack them. They were so near, however, that before 
we could get under cover of the bank our appearance as 

15 we walked over the sands alarmed them. Turning around 
before coming within gun-shot, they began to move off to 
the right, in a direction parallel to the river. I climbed 
up the bank and ran after them. They were walking 
swiftly, and before I could come within gun-shot distance, 

20 they slowly wheeled about and faced toward me. Before 
they had turned far enough to see me I had fallen flat on 
my face. For a moment they stood and stared at the 
strange object upon the grass; then turning away, again 
they walked on as before ; and I, rising immediately, ran 

25 once more in pursuit. Again they wheeled about, and 
again I fell prostrate. Repeating this three or four times, I 
came at length within a hundred yards of the fugitives, 
and as I saw them turning again I sat down and levelled 
my rifle. The one in the centre was the largest I had 

30 ever seen. I shot him behind the shoulder. His two 
companions ran off. He attempted to follow, but soon 
came to a stand, and at length lay down as quietly as an 
ox chewing the cud. Cautiously approaching him, I saw 
by his dull and jelly-like eye that he was dead. 

35 When I began the chase, the prairie was almost tenant- 
less; but a great multitude of buffalo had suddenly 
thronged upon it, and looking up I saw within fifty rods 
a heavy, dark column stretching to the right and left as 



The Buffalo-Camp 341 

far as I could see. I walked toward them. My approach 
did not alarm them in the least. The column itself con- 
sisted almost entirely of cows and calves, but a great 
many old bulls were ranging about the prairie on its 
flank, and as I drew near they faced toward me with 5 
such a shaggy and ferocious look that I thought it best 
to proceed no farther. Indeed I was already within close 
rifle-shot of the column, and I sat down on the ground to 
watch their movements. Sometimes the whole would 
stand still, their heads all facing one way ; then they 10 
would trot forward, as if by a common impulse, their 
hoofs and horns clattering together as they moved. I 
soon began to hear at a distance on the left the sharp 
reports of a rifle, again and again repeated; and not long 
after, dull and heavy sounds succeeded, which I recog- 15 
nized as the familiar voice of Shaw's double-barrelled 
gun. When Henry's rifle was at work there was always 
meat to be brought in. I went back across the river for a 
horse, and returning, reached the spot where the hunters 
were standing. The buffalo were visible on the distant 20 
prairie. The living had retreated from the ground, but 
ten or twelve carcasses were scattered in various direc- 
tions. Henry, knife in hand, was stooping over a dead 
cow, cutting away the best and fattest of the meat. 

When Shaw left me he had walked down for some 25 
distance under the river-bank to find another bull. At 
length he saw the plains covered with the host of buffalo, 
and soon after heard the crack of Henry's rifle. Ascend- 
ing the bank, he crawled through the grass, which for a 
rod or two from the river was very high and rank. He 30 
had not crawled far before, to his astonishment, he saw 
Henry standing erect upon the prairie, almost surrounded 
by the buffalo. Henry was in his appropriate element. 
Nelson, on the deck of the " Victory," hardly felt a 
prouder sense of mastery than he. Quite unconscious 35 
that any one was looking at him, he stood at the full 
height of his tall, strong figure, one hand resting upon 
his side, and the other arm leaning carelessly on the 



342 The Oregon Trail 

muzzle of his rifle. His eyes were ranging over the singu- 
lar assemblage around him. Now and then he would 
select such a cow as suited him, level his rifle, and shoot 
her dead; then, quietly reloading, he would resume his 
6 former position. The buffalo seemed no more to regard 
his presence than if he were one of themselves; the bulls 
were bellowing and butting at each other, or else rolling 
about in the dust. A group of buffalo would gather about 
the carcass of a dead cow, snuffing at her wounds; and 

10 sometimes they would come behind those that had not yet 
fallen and endeavor to push them from the spot. Now 
and then some old bull would face toward Henry with 
an air of stupid amazement, but none seemed inclined to 
attack or fly at him. For some time Shaw lay among 

15 the grass, looking in surprise at this extraordinary sight ; 
at length he crawled cautiously forward, and spoke in a 
low voice to Henry, who told him to rise and come on. 
Still the buffalo showed no sign of fear; they remained 
gathered about their dead companions. Henry had already 

20 killed as many cows as we wanted for use, and Shaw, 
kneeling behind one of the carcasses, shot five bulls before 
the rest thought it necessary to disperse. 

The frequent stupidity and infatuation of the buffalo 
seems the more remakable from the contrast it offers to 

26 their wildness and wariness at other times. Henry knew 
all their peculiarities; he had studied them as a scholar 
studies his books, and he derived quite as much pleasure 
from the occupation. The buffalo were a" kind of com- 
panions to him, and, as he said, he never felt alone when 

30 they were about him. He took great pride in his skill 
in hunting. Henry was one of the most modest of men; 
yet in the simplicity and frankness of his character, it 
was quite clear that he looked upon his pre-eminence in 
this respect as a thing too palpable and well-established 

35 ever to be disputed. But whatever may have been his 
estimate of his own skill, it was rather below than above 
that which others placed upon it. The only time that I 
ever saw a shade of scorn darken his face was when two 



The Buffalo-Camp 343 

volunteer soldiers, who had just killed a buffalo for the 
first time, undertook to instruct him as to the best method 
of " approaching." To borrow an illustration from an 
opposite side of life, an Eton boy might as well have 
sought to enlighten Porsons on the formation of a Greek 5 
verb, or a Fleet Street shopkeeper to instruct Chesterfield 
concerning a point of etiquette. Henry always seemed 
to think that he had a sort of prescriptive right to the 
buffalo, and to look upon them as something belonging 
peculiarly to himself. Nothing excited his indignation lo 
so much as any wanton destruction committed among the 
cows, and in his view shooting a calf was a cardinal sin. 
Henry Chatillon and Tete Rouge were the same age; 
that is, about thirty. Henry was twice as large, and fully 
six times as strong as Tete Rouge. Henry's face was 15 
roughened by winds and storms ; Tete Rouge's was bloated 
by sherry-cobblers and brandy-toddy. Henry talked of 
Indians and buffalo; Tete Rouge of theatres and oyster- 
cellars. Henry had led a life of hardship and privation; 
Tete Rouge never had a whim which he would not gratify 20 
at the first moment he was able. Henry, moreover, was 
the most disinterested man I ever saw ; while Tete Rouge, 
though equally good-natured in his way, cared for nobody 
but himself. Yet we would not have lost him on any 
account; he admirably served the purpose of a jester in 25 
a feudal castle; our camp would have been lifeless with- 
out him. For the past week he had fattened in a most 
amazing manner ; and indeed this was not at all surprising, 
since his appetite was most inordinate. He was eating 
from morning till night; half the time he would be at 30 
work cooking some private repast for himself, and he 
paid a visit to the coffee-pot eight or ten times a day. His 
rueful and disconsolate face became jovial and rubicund, 
his eyes stood out like a lobster's, and his spirits, which 
before were sunk to the depths of despondency, were now 35 
elated in proportion; all day he was singing, whistling, 
laughing, and telling stories. Being mortally afraid of 
Jim Gurney, he kept close in the neighborhood of our 



344 The Oregon Trail 

tent. As he had seen an abundance of low, dissipated 
life, and had a considerable fund of humor, his anec- 
dotes were extremely amusing, especially since he never 
hesitated to place himself in a ludicrous point of view, 
5 provided he could raise a laugh by doing so. Tete Rouge, 
however, was sometimes rather troublesome; he had an 
inveterate habit of pilfering provisions at all times of the 
day. He set ridicule at utter defiance ; and being without 
a particle of self-respect, he would never have given over 

10 his tricks, even if they had drawn upon him the scorn of 
the whole party. Now and then, indeed, something worse 
than laughter fell to his share; on these occasions he 
would exhibit much contrition, but half an hour after 
we would generally observe him stealing around to the 

15 box at the back of the cart, and slyly making off with 
the provisions which Deslauriers had laid by for supper. 
He was very fond of smoking, but having no tobacco of 
his own, we used to provide him with as much as he 
wanted, a small piece at a time. At first we gave him half 

20 a pound together ; but this experiment proved an entire 
failure, for he invariably lost not only the tobacco, but 
the knife intrusted to him for cutting it, and a few 
minutes after he would come to us with many apologies 
and beg for more. 

25 We had been two days at this camp, and some of the 
meat was nearly fit for transportation, when a storm came 
suddenly upon us. About sunset the whole sky grew as 
black as ink, and the long grass at the river's edge bent 
and rose mournfully with the first gusts of the approach- 

30 ing hurricane. Munroe and his two companions brought 
their guns and placed them under cover of our tent. 
Having no shelter for themselves, they built a fire of 
driftwood that might have defied a cataract, and wrapped 
in their buffalo-robes, sat on the ground around it to 

35 bide the fury of the storm. Deslauriers ensconced him- 
self under the cover of the cart. Shaw and I, together 
with Henry and Tete Rouge, crowded into the little tent; 
but first of all the dried meat was piled together 



The Buffalo-Camp 345 

and well protected by buffalo-robes pinned firmly to the 
ground. About nine o'clock the storm broke, amid abso- 
lute darkness; it blew a gale, and torrents of rain 
roared over the boundless expanse of open prairie. Our 
tent was filled with mist and spray, beating through the 5 
canvas and saturating everything within. We could only 
distinguish each other at short intervals by the dazzling 
flash of lightning, which displayed the whole waste around 
us with its momentary glare. We had our fears for the 
tent, but for an hour or two it stood fast, until at length lO 
the cap gave way before a furious blast; the pole tore 
through the top, and in an instant we were half-suffocated 
by the cold and dripping folds of the canvas, which fell 
down upon us. Seizing our guns, we placed them erect, 
in order to lift the saturated cloth above our heads. In 15 
this agreeable situation, involved among wet blankets and 
buffalo-robes, we spent several hours of the night, during 
which the storm would not abate for a moment, but pelted 
down above our heads with merciless fury. Before long 
the ground beneath us became soaked with moisture, and 20 
the water gathered there in a pool two or three inches 
deep; so that for a considerable part of the night we 
were partially immersed in a cold bath. In spite of all 
this, Tete Rouge's flow of spirits did not desert him for an 
instant; he laughed, whistled, and sung in defiance of the 25 
storm, and that night he paid off the long arrears of ridicule 
which he owed us. While we lay in silence, enduring the 
infliction with what philosophy we could muster, Tete 
Rouge, who was intoxicated with animal spirits, was crack- 
ing jokes at our expense by the hour together. At about 30 
three o'clock in the morning, " preferring the tyranny 
of the open night " to such a wretched shelter, we crawled 
out from beneath the fallen canvas. The wind had 
abated, but the rain fell steadily. The fire of the Cali- 
fornia men still blazed amid the darkness, and we joined 35 
them as they sat around it. We made ready some hot 
coffee by way of refreshment; but when some of the party 
sought to replenish their cups, it was found that Tete 



346 The Oregon Trail 

Rouge, having disposed of his own share, had privately 
abstracted the coffee-pot and drank up the rest of the 
contents out of the spout. 

In the morning, to our great joy, an unclouded sun 
5 rose upon the prairie. We presented rather a laughable 
appearance, for the cold and clammy buckskin, saturated 
w^ith water, clung fast to our limbs; the light wind and 
warm sunshine soon dried them again, and then we were 
all incased in armor of tolerable rigidity. Roaming all 

10 day over the prairie and shooting two or three bulls was 
scarcely enough to restore the stiffened leather to its usual 
pliancy. 

Besides Henry Chatillon, Shaw and I were the only 
other hunters in the party. Munroe this morning made an 

15 attempt to run a buffalo, but his horse could not come up 
to the game. Shaw went out with him, and being better 
mounted, soon found himself in the midst of the herd. 
Seeing nothing but cows and calves around him, he 
checked his horse. An old bull came galloping on the 

20 open prairie at some distance behind, and turning, Shaw 
rode across his path, levelling his gun as he passed, and 
shooting him through the shoulder into the heart. The 
heavy bullets of Shaw's double-barrelled gun made wild 
work wherever they struck. 

25 A great flock of buzzards were usually soaring about 
a few trees that stood on the island just below our camp. 
Throughout the whole of yesterday we had noticed an 
eagle among them; to-day he was still there; and Tete 
Rouge, declaring that he would kill the bird of America, 

30 borrowed Deslauriers's gun and set out on his unpatriotic 
mission. As might have been expected, the eagle suffered 
no great harm at his hands. He soon returned, saying 
that he could not find him, but had shot a buzzard instead. 
Being required to produce the bird in proof of his asser- 

35tion, he said he believed that he was not quite dead, 
but he must be hurt, from the swiftness with which he 
flew off. 

" If you want," said Tete Rouge, " I'll go and get one 



The Buffalo-Camp 347 

of his feathers; I knocked off plenty of them when I shot 
him." 

Just opposite our camp was another island covered with 
bushes, and behind it was a deep pool of water, while 
two or three considerable streams coursed over the sand 5 
not far off. I was bathing at this place in the afternoon, 
when a white wolf, larger than the largest Newfoundland 
dog, ran out from behind the point of the island, and 
galloped leisurely over the sand not half a stone's throw 
distant. I could plainly see his red eyes, and the bristles 10 
about his snout; he was an ugly scoundrel, with a bushy 
tail, large head, and a most repulsive countenance. Hav- 
ing neither rifle to shoot nor stone to pelt him with, I 
was looking eagerly after some missile for his benefit, 
when the report of a gun came from the camp, and the 15 
ball threw up the sand just beyond him; at this he gave 
a slight jump, and stretched away so swiftly that he soon 
dwindled into a mere speck on the distant sand-beds. The 
number of carcasses that by this time were lying about 
the prairie all around us summoned the wolves from every 20 
quarter; the spot where Shaw and Henry had hunted 
together soon became their favorite resort, for here 
about a dozen dead buffalo were fermenting under the 
hot sun. I used often to go over the river and watch 
them at their meal ; by lying under the bank it was easy 25 
to get a full view of them. Three different kinds were 
present : there were the white wolves and the gray wolves, 
both extremely large, and besides these the small prairie- 
wolves, not much bigger than spaniels. They would 
howl and fight in a crowd around a single carcass, yet 30 
they were so watchful, and their senses so acute, that I 
never was able to crawl within a fair shooting-distance; 
whenever I attempted it, they would all scatter at once 
and glide silently away through the tall grass. The air 
above this spot was always full of buzzards or black 35 
vultures; whenever the wolves left a carcass they would 
descend upon it, and cover it so densely that a rifle-bullet 
shot at random among the gormandizing crowd would 



348 The Oregon Trail 

generally strike down two or three of them. These birds 
would now be sailing by scores just above our camp, their 
broad black wings seeming half -transparent as they ex- 
panded them against the bright sky. The wolves and the 
5 buzzards thickened about us with every hour, and two or 
three eagles came into the feast. I killed a bull within 
rifle-shot of the camp; that night the wolves made a 
fearful howling close at hand, and in the morning the 
carcass was completely hollowed out by these voracious 

10 feeders. 

After we had remained four days at this camp we pre- 
pared to leave it. We had for our own part about five 
hundred pounds of dried meat, and the California men had 
prepared some three hundred more; this consisted of the 

15 fattest and choicest parts of eight or nine cows, a very 
small quantity only being taken from each, and the rest 
abandoned to the wolves. The pack-animals were laden, 
the horses saddled, and the mules harnessed to the cart. 
Even Tete Rouge was ready at last, and slowly moving 

20 from the ground, we resumed our journey eastward. 
When we had advanced about a mile, Shaw missed a 
valuable hunting-knife and turned back in search of it, 
thinking that he had left it at the camp. He approached 
the place cautiously, fearful that Indians might be lurking 

25 about, for a deserted camp is dangerous to return to. 
He saw no enemy, but the scene was a wild and dreary 
one ; the prairie was overshadowed by dull, leaden clouds, 
for the day was dark and gloomy. The ashes of the fires 
were still smoking by the river-side; the grass around 

30 them was trampled down by men and horses, and strewn 
with all the litter of a camp. Our departure had been a 
gathering-signal to the birds and beasts of prey; Shaw 
assured me that literally dozens of wolves were prowling 
about the smouldering fires, while multitudes were roam- 

35 ing over the prairie around ; they all fled as he approached, 
some running over the sand-beds and some over the grassy 
plains. The vultures in great clouds were soaring over- 
head, and the dead bull near the camp was completely 



The Buffalo-Camp 349 

blackened by the flock that had alighted upon it; they 
flapped their broad wings and stretched upward their 
crested heads and long, skinny necks, fearing to remain, 
yet reluctant to leave their disgusting feast. As he 
searched about the fires he saw the wolves seated on the 5 
distant hills, waiting for his departure. Having looked 
in vain for his knife, he mounted again and left the 
wolves and the vultures to banquet freely upon the carrion 
of the camp. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

DOWN THE ARKANSAS 

"They quitted not their harness bright, 
Neither by day nor yet by night; 
They lay down to rest 
With corslet laced, 
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard. 
They carved at the meal 
With gloves of steel, 
And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred." 
The Lay of the Last Minstrel. 

In the summer of 1846 the w^ild and lonely banks of the 
Upper Arkansas beheld, for the first time, the passage of 
an army. General Kearny, on his march to Santa Fe, 
adopted this route in preference to the old trail of the 
5 Cimarron. When v^e came down, the main body of the 
troops had already passed on; Price's Missouri regiment, 
however, was still on the way, having left the frontier 
much later than the rest; and about this time we began 
to meet them moving along the trail, one or two com- 

10 panics at a time. No men ever embarked upon a military 
expedition with a greater love for the work before them 
than the Missourians; but if discipline and subordination 
be the criterion of merit, these soldiers were worthless 
indeed. Yet when their exploits have rung through all 

15 America, it would be absurd to deny that they were excel- 
lent irregular troops. Their victories were gained in the 
teeth of every established precedent of warfare; they 
■were owing to a singular combination of military qualities 
in the men themselves. Without discipline or a spirit of 

20 subordination, they knew how to keep their ranks and act 
as one man. Doniphan's regiment marched through New 
Mexico more like a band of free companions than like 

350 



\ 



Down the Arkansas 351 

the paid soldiers of a modern government. When General 
Taylor complimented Doniphan on his success at Sacra- 
mento and elsewhere, the Colonel's reply very well illus- 
trates the relations which subsisted between the officers 
and men of his command : 5 

" I don't know anything of the manoeuvres. The boys 
kept coming to me to let them charge; and when I saw 
a good opportunity, I told them they might go. They 
were off like a shot, and that's all I know about it." 

The backwoods lawyer was better fitted to conciliate 10 
the good will than to command the obedience of his men. 
There were many serving under him who, both from 
character and education, could better have held command 
than he. 

At the battle of Sacramento his frontiersmen fought 15 
under every possible disadvantage. The Mexicans had 
chosen their own position; they were drawn up across 
the valley that led to their native city of Chihauhau; 
their whole front was covered by intrenchments and 
defended by batteries of heavy cannon; they outnumbered ^^ 
the invaders five to one. An eagle flew over the Amer- 
icans, and a deep murmur rose along their lines. The 
enemy's batteries opened; long they remained under fire, 
but when at length the word was given, they shouted and 
ran forward. In one of the divisions, when midway to 25 
the enemy, a drunken officer ordered a halt; the exasper- 
ated men hesitated to obey. 

" Forward, boys ! " cried a private from the ranks ; and 
the Americans, rushing like tigers upon the enemy, 
bounded over the breastwork. Four hundred Mexicans 30 
were slain on the spot, and the rest fled, scattering over 
the plain like sheep. The standards, cannon, and bag- 
gage were taken, and among the rest a wagon laden 
with cords, which the Mexicans, in the fulness of their 
confidence, had made ready for tying the American 35 
prisoners. 

Doniphan's volunteers, who gained this victory, passed 
up with the main army ; but Price's soldiers, whom we now 



352 The Oregon Trail 

met, were men from the same neighborhood, precisely 
similar in character, manners, and appearance. One fore- 
noon, as we were descending upon a very wide meadow, 
where we meant to rest for an hour or two, we saw a dark 
5 body of horsemen approaching at a distance. In order 
to find water, we were obliged to turn aside to the river- 
bank, a full half-mile from the trail. Here we put up 
a kind of awning, and spreading buffalo-robes on the 
ground, Shaw and I sat down to smoke beneath it. 

10 " We are going to catch it now," said Shaw ; " look at 
those fellows; there'll be no peace for us here." 

And in good truth about half the volunteers had strag- 
gled away from the line of march, and were riding over 
the meadow toward us. 

15 " How are you ? " said the first who came up, alighting 
from his horse and throwing himself upon the ground. 
The rest followed close, and a score of them soon gathered 
about us, some lying at full length, and some sitting on 
horseback. They all belonged to a company raised in 

20 St. Louis. There were some ruffian faces among them, 
and some haggard with debauchery, but on the whole 
they were extremely good-looking men, superior beyond 
measure to the ordinary rank and file of an army. Except 
that they were booted to the knees, they wore their belts 

25 and military trappings over the ordinary dress of citizens. 
Besides their swords and holster-pistols, they carried, 
slung from their saddles, the excellent Springfield car- 
bines, loaded at the breech. They inquired the character 
of our party, and were anxious to know the prospect of 

30 killing buffalo, and the chance that their horses would 
stand the journey to Santa Fe. All this was well enough, 
but a moment after a worse visitation came upon us. 

" How are you, strangers? whar are you going and whar 
are you from ? " said a fellow, who came trotting up with 

35 an old straw hat on his head. He was dressed in the 
coarsest brown homespun cloth. His face was rather 
sallow from fever-and-ague, and his tall figure, though 
strong and sinewy, was quite thin, and had besides an 



Down the Arkansas 353 

angular look, which, together with his boorish seat on 
horseback, gave him an appearance anything but grace- 
ful. Plenty more of the same stamp were close behind 
him. Their company was raised in one of the frontier 
counties, and we soon had abundant evidence of their 5 
rustic breeding; dozens of them came crowding around, 
pushing between our first visitors, and staring at us with 
unabashed faces. 

" Are you the captain ? " asked one fellow. 

" What's your business out here ? " asked another. 10 

" Whar do you live when you're at home ? " said a 
third. 

" I reckon you're traders," surmised a fourth ; and to 
crown the whole, one of them came confidently to my 
side and inquired in a low voice, " What's your partner's 15 
name ? " 

As each new-comer repeated the same questions, the 
nuisance became intolerable. Our military visitors were 
soon disgusted at the concise nature of our replies, and we 
could overhear them muttering curses against us. While 20 
we sat smoking, not in the best imaginable humor, Tete 
Rouge's tongue was never idle. He never forgot his mili- 
tary character, and during the whole interview he was 
incessantly busy among his fellow-soldiers. At length we 
placed him on the ground before us, and told him that 25 
he might play the part of spokesman for the whole. Tete 
Rouge was delighted, and we soon had the satisfaction 
of seeing him talk and gabble at such a rate that the tor- 
rents of questions was in a great measure diverted from 
us. A little while after, to our amazement, we saw a 30 
large cannon with four horses come lumbering up behind 
the crowd ; and the driver, who was perched on one of the 
animals, stretching his neck so as to look over the rest 
of the men, called out: 

" Whar are you from, and what's your business? " 35 

The captain of one of the companies was among our 
visitors, drawn by the same curiosity that had attracted 
his men. Unless their faces belied them, not a few in the 



354 The Oregon Trail 

crowd might with great advantage have changed places 
with their commander. 

" Well, men," said he, lazily rising from the ground 
where he had been lounging, " it's getting late, I reckon 
5 we had better be moving." 

" I shan't start yet, anyhow," said one fellow, who was 
lying half -asleep, with his head resting on his arm. 

" Don't be in a hurry, captain," added the lieutenant. 

" Well, have your own way ; we'll wait a while longer," 
10 replied the obsequious commander. 

At length, however, our visitors went straggling away 
as they had come, and we, to our great relief, were left 
alone again. 

No one can deny the intrepid bravery of these men, 
15 their intelligence and the bold frankness of their character, 
free from all that is mean and sordid. Yet for the 
moment the extreme roughness of their manners half- 
inclines one to forget their heroic qualities. Most of them 
seem without the least perception of delicacy or pro- 
20 priety, though among them individuals may be found in 
whose manners there is a plain courtesy, while their 
features bespeak a gallant spirit equal to any enterprise. 

No one was more relieved than Deslauriers by the de- 
parture of the volunteers; for dinner was getting colder 
25 every moment. He spread a well whitened buffalo-hide 
upon the grass, placed in the middle the juicy hump of a 
fat cow, ranged around it the tin plates and cups, and 
then acquainted us that all was ready. Tete Rouge, with 
his usual alacrity on such occasions, was the first to take 
30 his seat. In his former capacity of steamboat clerk he 
had learned to prefix the honorary Mister to everybody's 
name, whether of high or low degree ; so Jim Gurney was 
Mr. Gurney, Henry was Mr. Henry, and even Deslauriers, 
for the first time in his life, heard himself addressed as 
35 Mr. Deslauriers. This did not prevent his conceiving a 
violent enmity against Tete Rouge, who, in his futile 
though praiseworthy attempts to make himself useful, 
used always to intermeddle with cooking the dinners. 



Down the Arkansas 355 

Deslauriers's disposition knew no medium between smiles 
and sunshine and a downright tornado of wrath; he said 
nothing to Tete Rouge, but his wrongs rankled in his 
breast. Tete Rouge had taken his place at dinner; it 
was his happiest moment ; he sat enveloped in the old 5 
buffalo-coat, sleeves turned up in preparation for the 
work, and his short legs crossed on the grass before him; 
he had a cup of coffee by his side and his knife ready in 
his hand, and while he looked upon the fat hump-ribs, his 
eyes dilated with anticipation. Deslauriers sat just oppo- 10 
site to him, and the rest of us by this time had taken our 
seats. 

" How is this, Deslauriers ? You haven't given us bread 
enough." 

At this Deslauriers's placid face flew instantly into a 15 
paroxysm of contortions. He grinned with wrath, chat- 
tered, gesticulated, and hurled forth a volley of incoherent 
words in broken English at the astonished Tete Rouge. It 
was just possible to make out that he was accusing him of 
having stolen and eaten four large cakes which had been 20 
laid by for dinner. Tete Rouge, utterly confounded at this 
sudden attack, stared at Deslauriers for a moment in dumb 
amazement, with mouth and eyes wide open. At last he 
found speech, and protested that the accusation was false ; 
and that he could not conceive how he had offended Mr. 25 
Deslauriers, or provoked him to such ungentlemanly ex- 
pressions. The tempest of words raged with such fury 
that nothing else could be heard. But Tete Rouge, from 
his greater command of English, had a manifest advantage 
over Deslauriers, who, after sputtering and grimacing for 30 
a while, found his words quite inadequate to the expres- 
sion of his wrath. He jumped up and vanished, jerking 
out between his teeth one furious sacre enfant de garce, a 
Canadian title of honor, made doubly emphatic by being 
usually applied together with a cut of the whip to refrac- 35 
tory mules and horses. 

The next morning we saw an old buffalo-bull escorting 
his cow with two sni^U calves over the prairie. Close 



356 The Oregon Trail 

behind came four or five large white wolves, sneaking 
stealthily through the long meadow-grass, and watching 
for the moment when one of the children should chance 
to lag behind his parents. The old bull kept well on his 
6 ^uard, and faced about now and then to keep the prowling 
ruffians at a distance. 

As we approached our nooning-place, we saw five or 
six buffalo standing at the very summit of a tall bluff. 
Trotting forward to the spot where we meant to stop, I 

10 flung off my saddle and turned my horse loose. By mak- 
ing a circuit under cover of some rising ground, I reached 
the foot of the bluff unnoticed, and climbed up its steep 
side. Lying under the brow of a declivity, I prepared 
to fire at the buffalo, who stood on the flat surface above, 

15 not five yards distant. Perhaps I was too hasty, for 
the gleaming rifle-barrel levelled over the edge caught 
their notice; they turned and ran. Close as they were, 
it was impossible to kill them when in that position, and, 
stepping upon the summit, I pursued them over the high 

20 arid table-land. It was extremely rugged and broken ; 
a great sandy ravine was channelled through it, with 
smaller ravines entering on each side like tributary 
streams. The buffalo scattered, and I soon lost sight of 
most of them as they scuttled away through the sandy 

25 chasms ; a bull and a cow alone kept in view. For a while 
they ran along the edge of the great ravine, appearing 
and disappearing as they dived into some chasm and 
again emerged from it. At last they stretched out upon 
the broad prairie, a plain nearly flat and almost devoid 

30 of verdure, for every short grass-blade was dried and 
shrivelled by the glaring sun. Now and then the old bull 
would face toward me; whenever he did so I fell to the 
ground and lay motionless. In this manner I chased 
them for about two miles, until at length I heard in front 

35 a deep hoarse bellowing. A moment after, a band of 
about a hundred bulls, before hidden by a slight swell of 
the plain, came at once into view. The fugitives ran 
toward them. Instead of mingling with the band, as I 



I 



Down the Arkansas 357 

expected, they passed directly through and continued 
their flight. At this I gave up the chase, and kneeling 
down, crawled to within gunshot of the bulls, and with 
panting breath and trickling brow sat down on the ground 
to watch them; my presence did not disturb them in the 5 ' 
least. They were not feeding, for, indeed, there was 
nothing to eat; but they seemed to have chosen the 
parched and scorching desert as the scene of their amuse- 
ments. Some were rolling on the ground amid a cloud 
of dust ; others, with a hoarse, rumbling bellow, were 10 
butting their large heads together, while many stood 
motionless, as if quite inanimate. Except their mon- 
strous growth of tangled, grizzly mane, they had no hair; 
for their old coat had fallen off in the spring, and their 
new one had not as yet appeared. Sometimes an old bull 15 
would step forward and gaze at me with a grim and stupid 
countenance; then he would turn and butt his next 
neighbor; then he would lie down and roll over in the 
dirt, kicking his hoofs in the air. When satisfied with 
this amusement, he would jerk his head and shoulders 20 
upward, and resting on his forelegs, stare at me in this 
position, half-blinded by his mane, and his face covered 
with dirt; then up he would spring upon all-fours and 
shake his dusty sides; turning half-around, he would 
stand with his beard touching the ground, in an attitude 25 
of profound abstraction, as if reflecting on his puerile 
conduct. " You are too ugly to live," thought I ; and 
aiming at the ugliest, I shot three of them in succession. 
The rest were not at all discomposed at this; they kept 
on bellowing and butting and rolling on the ground as 30 
before. Henry Chatillon always cautioned us to keep 
perfectly quiet in the presence of a wounded buffalo, for 
any movement is apt to excite him to make an attack; 
so I sat still upon the ground, loading and firing with as 
little motion as possible. While I was thus employed, a 35 
spectator made his appearance : a little antelope came 
running up with remarkable gentleness to within fifty 
yards; and there it stood, its slender neck arched, its 



358 The Oregon Trail 

small horns thrown back, and its large dark eyes gazing 
on me with a look of eager curiosity. By the side of the 
shaggy and brutish monsters before me, it seemed like 
some lovely young girl wandering near a den of robbers 

6 or a nest of bearded pirates. The buffalo looked uglier 
than ever. " Here goes for another of you," thought I, 
feeling in my pouch for a percussion-cap. Not a per- 
cussion-cap was there. My good rifle was useless as an 
old iron bar. One of the wounded bulls had not yet fallen, 

10 and I waited for some time, hoping every moment that 
his strength would fail him. He still stood firm, looking 
grimly at me, and disregarding Henry's advice, I rose 
and walked away. Many of the bulls turned and looked 
at me, but the wounded brute made no attack. I soon 

15 came upon a deep ravine which would give me shelter 
in case of emergency; so I turned around and threw a 
stone at the bulls. They received it with the utmost indif- 
ference. Feeling myself insulted at their refusal to be 
frightened, I swung my hat, shouted, and made a show 

20 of running toward them; at this they crowded together 
and galloped off, leaving their dead and wounded upon 
the field. As I moved toward the camp I saw the last 
survivor totter and fall dead. My speed in returning was 
wonderfully quickened by the reflection that the Pawnees 

25 were abroad, and that I was defenceless in case of meeting 
with an enemy. I saw no living thing, however, except 
two or three squalid old bulls shambling among the 
sand-hills that flanked the great ravine. When I reached 
camp the party were nearly ready for the afternoon move. 

30 We encamped that evening at a short distance from 
the river-bank. About midnight, as we all lay asleep on 
the ground, the man nearest to me, gently reaching out 
his hand, touched my shoulder and cautioned me at the 
same time not to move. It was bright starlight. Open- 

35 my eyes and slightly turning, I saw a large white wolf 
moving stealthily around the embers of our fire, with his 
nose close to the ground. Disengaging my hand from the 
blanket, I drew the cover from my rifle, which lay close 



Down the Arkansas 359 

at my side; the motion alarmed the wolf, and with long 
leaps he bounded out of the camp. Jumping up, I fired 
after him, when he was about thirty yards distant; the 
melancholy hum of the bullet sounded far away through 
the night. At the sharp report, so suddenly breaking 5 
upon the stillness, all the men sprang up. 

" You've killed him," said one of them. 

" No, I haven't," said I ; " there he goes, running along 
the river." 

" Then there's two of them. Don't you see that one 10 
lying out yonder ? " 

We went out to it, and instead of a dead white wolf 
found the bleached skull of a buffalo. I had missed my 
mark, and what was worse, had grossly violated a stand- 
ing law of the prairie. When in a dangerous part of the 15 
country, it is considered highly imprudent to fire a gun 
after encamping, lest the report should reach the ears of 
the Indians. 

The horses were saddled in the morning, and the last 
man had lighted his pipe at the dying ashes of the fire. 20 
The beauty of the day enlivened us all. Even Ellis felt 
its influence, and occasionally made a remark as we rode 
along; and Jim Gurney told endless stories of his cruisings 
in the United States service. The buffalo were abundant, 
and at length a large band of them went running up the ^^ 
hills on the left. 

" Do you see them buffalo ? " said Ellis, " now, I'll bet 
any man I'll go and kill one with my yager." 

And leaving his horse to follow on with the party, he 
strode up the hill after them. Henry looked at us with 30 
his peculiar humorous expression, and proposed that we 
should follow Ellis to see how he would kill a fat cow. 
As soon as he was out of sight we rode up the hill after 
him, and waited behind a little ridge till we heard the 
report of the unfailing yager. Mounting to the top, we 35 
saw Ellis clutching his favorite weapon with both hands, 
and staring after the buffalo, who, one and all, were gal- 
loping off at full speed. As we descended the hill we saw 



360 The Oregon Trail 

the party straggling along the trail below. When we 
joined them, another scene of amateur hunting awaited 
us. I forgot to say that when we met the volunteers 
Tete Rouge had obtained a horse from one of them, in 
5 exchange for his mule, whom he feared and detested. 
This horse was christened James. James, though not 
worth so much as the mule, was a large and strong animal. 
Tete Rouge was very proud of his new acquisition, and 
suddenly became ambitious to run a buffalo with him. 

10 At his request I lent him my pistols, though not without 
great misgivings, since when Tete Rouge hunted buffalo 
the pursuer was in more danger than the pursued. He 
hung the holsters at his saddle-bow ; and now, as we passed 
along, a band of bulls left their grazing in the meadow 

15 and galloped in a long file across the trail in front. 
" Now's your chance, Tete ; come, let's see you kill a 
bull." 

Thus urged, the hunter cried, " Get up ! " and James, 
obedient to the signal, cantered deliberately forward at 

20 an abominably uneasy gait. Tete Rouge, as we contem- 
plated him from behind, made a most remarkable figure. 
He still wore the old buffalo-coat ; his blanket, which was 
tied in a loose bundle behind his saddle, went jolting from 
one side to the other, and a large tin canteen, half-full of 

25 water, which hung from his pommel, was jerked about 
his leg in a manner which greatly embarrassed him. 

" Let out your horse, man ; lay on your whip ! " we 
called out to him. The buffalo were getting farther off at 
every instant. James, being ambitious to mend his pace, 

30 tugged hard at the rein, and one of his rider's boots 
escaped from the stirrup. 

" Whoa ! I say, whoa ! " cried Tete Rouge, in great per- 
turbation, and after much effort James's progress was 
arrested. The hunter came trotting back to the party, 

35 disgusted with buffalo-running, and he was received with 
overwhelming congratulations. 

" Too good a chance to lose," said Shaw, pointing to 
another band of bulls on the left. We lashed our horses 



Down the Arkansas 361 

and galloped upon them. Shaw killed one with each 
barrel of his gun. I separated another from the herd and 
shot him. The small bullet of the rifle-pistol, striking too 
far back, did not immediately take effect, and the bull 
ran on with unabated speed. Again and again I snapped 5 
the remaining pistol at him. I primed it afresh three or 
four times, and each time it missed fire, for the touch- 
hole was clogged up. Returning it to the holster, I began 
to load the empty pistol, still galloping by the side of the 
bull. By this time he was grown desperate. The foam 10 
flew from his jaws, and his tongue lolled out. Before the 
pistol was loaded he sprang upon me, and followed up his 
attack with a furious rush. The only alternative was to 
run away or be killed. I took to flight, and the bull, 
bristling with fury, pursued me closely. The pistol was 15 
soon ready, and then looking back, I saw his head five or 
six yards behind my horse's tail. To fire at it would be 
useless, for a bullet flattens against the adamantine skull 
of a buffalo-bull. Inclining my body to the left, I turned 
my horse in that direction as sharply as his speed would 20 
permit. The bull, rushing blindly on with great force 
and weight, did not turn so quickly. As I looked back, 
his neck and shoulder were exposed to view; turning in 
the saddle, I shot a bullet through them obliquely into his 
vitals. He gave over the chase and soon fell to the ground. 25 
An English tourist represents a situation like this as one 
of imminent danger ; this is a great mistake ; the bull never 
pursues long, and the horse must be wretched indeed 
that cannot keep out of his way for two or three minutes. 

We were now come to a part of the country where we 30 
were bound in common prudence to use every possible 
precaution. We mounted guard at night, each man stand- 
ing in his turn; and no one ever slept without drawing 
his rifle close to his side or folding it with him in his 
blanket. One morning our vigilance was stimulated by 35 
our finding traces of a large Camanche encampment. For- 
tunately for us, however, it had been abandoned nearly a 
week. On the next evening we found the ashes of a 



362 The Oregon Trail 

recent fire, which gave us at the time some uneasiness. 
At length we reached " The Caches," a place of dangerous 
repute; and it had a most dangerous appearance, consist- 
ing of sand-hills everywhere broken by ravines and deep 
5 chasms. Here we found the grave of Swan, killed at this 
place, probably by Pawnees, two or three weeks before. 
His remains, more than once violated by the Indians and 
the wolves, were suffered at length to remain undisturbed 
in their wild burial-place. 

10 For several days we met detached companies of Price's 
regiment. Horses would often break loose at night from 
their camps. One afternoon we picked up three of these 
stragglers quietly grazing along the river. After we came 
to camp that evening, Jim Gurney brought the news that 

15 more of them were in sight. It was nearly dark, and a 
cold, drizzling rain had set in; but we all turned out, and 
after an hour's chase nine horses were caught and brought 
in. One of them was equipped with saddle and bridle; 
pistols were hanging at the pommel of the saddle, a carbine 

20 was slung at its side, and a blanket rolled up behind it. 
In the morning, glorying in our valuable prize, we re- 
sumed our journey, and our cavalcade presented a much 
more imposing appearance than ever before. We kept on 
till the afternoon, when, far behind, three horsemen ap- 

25 peared on the horizon. Coming on at a hand-gallop, they 
soon overtook us, and claimed all the horses as belonging 
to themselves and others of their company. They were of 
course given up, very much to the mortification of Ellis 
and Jim Gurney. 

30 Our own horses now showed signs of fatigue, and we 
resolved to give them half a day's rest. We stopped at 
noon at a grassy spot by the river. After dinner Shaw 
and Henry went out to hunt; and while the men lounged 
about the camp, I lay down to read in the shadow of the 

35 cart. Looking up, I saw a bull grazing alone on the 
prairie more than a mile distant. I was tired of reading, 
and taking my rifle I walked toward him. As I came 
near, I crawled upon the ground until I approached to 



Down the Arkansas 363 

within a hundred yards; here I sat down upon the grass 
and waited till he should turn himself into a proper posi- 
tion to receive his death-wound. He was a grim old 
veteran. His loves and his battles were over for that 
season, and now, gaunt and war-worn, he had withdrawn 5 ~ 
from the herd to graze by himself and recruit his exhausted 
strength. He was miserably emaciated ; his mane was all 
in tatters; his hide was bare and rough as an elephant's, 
and covered with dried patches of the mud in which he 
had been wallowing. He showed all his ribs whenever lo 
he moved. He looked like some grizzly old ruffian grown 
gray in blood and violence, and scowling on all the world 
from his misanthropic seclusion. The old savage looked 
up when I first approached, and gave me a fierce stare; 
then he fell to grazing again with an air of contemptuous 15 
indifference. The moment after, as if suddenly recollect- 
ing himself, he threw up his head, faced quickly about, 
and, to my amazement, came at a rapid trot directly 
toward me. I was strongly impelled to get up and run, 
but this would have been very dangerous. Sitting quite 20 
still, I aimed, as he came on, at the thin part of the skull 
above the nose. After he had passed over about three- 
quarters of the distance between us, I was on the point 
of firing, when, to my great satisfaction, he stopped 
short. I had full opportunity of studying his countenance; 25 
his whole front was covered with a huge mass of coarse, 
matted hair, which hung so low that nothing but his two 
forefeet were visible beneath it; his short, thick horns 
were blunted and split to the very roots in his various 
battles, and across his nose and forehead were two or 30 
three large white scars, which gave him a grim and at the 
same time a whimsical appearance. It seemed to me 
that he stood there motionless for a full quarter of an 
hour, looking at me through the tangled locks of his mane. 
For my part, I remained as quiet as he, and looked quite as 35 
hard; I felt greatly inclined to come to terms with him. 
" My friend," thought I, " if you'll let me off, I'll let you 
off." At length he seemed to have abandoned any hostile 



364 The Oregon Trail 

design. Very slowly and deliberately he began to turn 
about; little by little his side came into view, all beplas- 
tered with mud. It was a tempting sight. I forgot my 
prudent intention, and fired my rifle; a pistol would have 

5 served at that distance. Round spun old bull like a top, 
and away he galloped over the prairie. He ran some dis- 
tance, and even ascended a considerable hill, before he 
lay down and died. After shooting another bull among 
the hills, I went back to camp. 

10 At noon, on the fourteenth of September, a very large 
Santa Fe caravan came up. The plain was covered with 
the long files of their white-topped wagons, the close 
black carriages in which the traders travel and sleep, 
large droves of animals, and men on horseback and on 

15 foot. They all stopped on the meadow near us. Our 
diminutive cart and handful of men made but an insignifi- 
cant figure by the side of their wide and bustling camp. 
Tete Rouge went over to visit them, and soon came back 
with half a dozen biscuits in one hand, and a bottle of 

20 brandy in the other. I inquired where he got them. 
" Oh," said Tete Rouge, " I know some of the traders. 
Dr. Dobbs is there besides." I asked who Dr. Dobbs 
might be. " One of our St. Louis doctors," replied Tete 
Rouge. For two days past I had been severely attacked 

25 by the same disorder which had so greatly reduced my 
strength when at the mountains ; at this time I was suffer- 
ing not a little from the sudden pain and weakness which 
it occasioned. Tete Rouge, in answer to my inquiries, 
declared that Dr. Dobbs was a physician of the first stand- 

30 ing. Without at all believing him, I resolved to consult 
this eminent practitioner. Walking over to the camp, I 
found him lying sound asleep under one of the wagons. 
He offered in his own person but an indifferent specimen 
of his skill, for it was five months since I had seen so 

35 cadaverous a face. His hat had fallen off, and his yellow 
hair was all in disorder; one of his arms supplied the 
place of a pillow; his pantaloons were wrinkled half- 
way up to his knees, and he was covered with little bits of 



Down the Arkansas 365 

grass and straw, upon which he had rolled in his uneasy 
slumber. A Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign 
that he should touch the doctor. Up sprang the learned 
Dobbs, and sitting upright, rubbed his eyes and looked 
about him in great bewilderment. I regretted the neces- 5 
sity of disturbing him, and said I had come to ask pro- 
fessional advice. 

" Your system, sir, is in a disordered state," said he 
solemnly, after a short examination. 

I inquired what might be the particular species of dis- 10 
order. 

" Evidently a morbid action of the liver," replied the 
medical man ; " I will give you a prescription." 

Repairing to the back of one of the covered wagons, 
he scrambled in; for a moment I could see nothing of him 15 
but his boots. At length he produced a box which he had 
extracted from some dark recess within, and opening it, 
he presented me with a folded paper of some size. 
" What is it ? " said I. " Calomel," said the doctor. 

Under the circumstances I would have taken almost 20 
anything. There was not enough to do me much harm, 
and it might possibly do good; so at camp that night I 
took the poison instead of supper. 

That camp is worthy of notice. The traders warned 
us not to follow the main trail along the river, " unless," 25 
as one of them observed, " you want to have your throats 
cut ! " The river at this place makes a bend ; and a smaller 
trail, known as " the Ridge-path," leads directly across 
the prairie, from point to point, a distance of sixty or 
seventy miles. 30 

We followed this trail, and after travelling seven or 
eight miles, we came to a small stream, where we en- 
camped. Our position was not chosen with much fore- 
thought or military skill. The water was in a deep hollow, 
with steep, high banks; on the grassy bottom of this 35 
hollow we picketed our horses, while we ourselves en- 
camped upon the barren prairie just above. The oppor- 
tunity was admirable either for driving off our horses or 



366 The Oregon Trail 

attacking us. After dark, as Tete Rouge was sitting at 
supper, we observed him pointing, with a face of speech- 
less horror, over the shoulder of Henry, who was opposite 
to him. Aloof amid the darkness appeared a gigantic 

6 black apparition, solemnly swaying to and fro as it ad- 
vanced steadily upon us. Henry, half-vexed and half- 
amused, jumped up, spread out his arms and shouted. 
The invader was an old buffalo-bull, who, with character- 
istic stupidity, was walking directly into camp. It cost 

10 some shouting and swinging of hats before we could bring 
him first to a halt and then to a rapid retreat. 

That night the moon was full and bright; but as the 
black clouds chased rapidly over it, we were at one 
moment in light and at the next in darkness. As the eve- 

15 ning advanced, a thunder-storm came up ; it struck us with 
such violence that the tent would have been blown over 
if we had not interposed the cart to break the force of the 
wind. At length it subsided to a steady rain. I lay 
awake through nearly the whole night, listening to its 

20 dull patter upon the canvas above. The moisture, which 
filled the tent and trickled from everything in it, did not 
add to the comfort of the situation. About twelve o'clock 
Shaw went out to stand guard amid the rain and pitch 
darkness. Munroe, the most vigilant as well as one of the 

25 bravest among us, was also on the alert. When about 
two hours had passed, Shaw came silently in, and touching 
Henry, called him in a low, quick voice to come out. 
"What is it?" I asked. "Indians, I believe," whispered 
Shaw; "but lie still; I'll call you if there's a fight." 

30 He and Henry went out together. I took the cover 
from my rifle, put a fresh percussion-cap upon it, and 
then, being in much pain, lay down again. In about five 
minutes Shaw came in again. " All right," he said, as he 
lay down to sleep. Henry was now standing guard in his 

35 place. He told me in the morning the particulars of the 
alarm. Munroe's watchful eye discovered some dark ob- 
jects down in the hollow, among the horses, like men 
creeping on all- fours. Lying flat on their faces, he and 



Down the Arkansas 367 

Shaw crawled to the edge of the bank, and were soon 
convinced that what they saw were Indians. Shaw 
silently withdrew to call Henry, and they all lay watching 
in the same position. Henry's eye is one of the best on 
the prairie. He detected after a while the true nature of 5 
the moving objects; they were nothing but wolves creep- 
ing among the horses. 

It is very singular that when picketed near a camp 
horses seldom show any fear of such an intrusion. The 
wolves appear to have no other object than that of 10 
gnawing the trail-ropes of raw-hide by which the animals 
are secured. Several times in the course of the journey 
my horse's trail-rope was bitten in two by these nocturnal 
visitors. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

THE SETTLEMENTS 

"And some are in a far countree, 
And some all restlessly at home; 
But never more, ah never, we 
Shall meet to revel and to roam." 

— Siege of Corinth. 

The next day was extremely hot, and we rode from 
morning till night without seeing a tree or a bush or a 
drop of water. Our horses and mules suffered much more 
than we, but as sunset approached, they pricked up their 
5 ears and mended their pace. Water was not far off. 
When we came to the descent of the broad, shallow val- 
ley where it lay, an unlooked-for sight awaited us. The 
stream glistened at the bottom, and along its banks were 
pitched a multitude of tents, while hundreds of cattle 

10 were feeding over the meadows. Bodies of troops, both 
horse and foot, and long trains of wagons, with men, 
women, and children, were moving over the opposite ridge 
and descending the broad declivity in front. These were 
the Mormon battalion in the service of the government, 

15 together with a considerable number of Missouri volun- 
teers. The Mormons were to be paid off in California, and 
they were allowed to bring with them their families and 
property. There was something very striking in the 
half-military, half -patriarchal appearance of these armed 

20 fanatics, thus on their way with their wives and children 
to found, it might be, a Mormon empire in California. 
We were much more astonished than pleased at the sight 
before us. In order to find an unoccupied camping- 
ground, we were obliged to pass a quarter of a mile up 

25 the stream, and here we were soon beset by a swarm of 

368 



The Settlements 369 

Mormons and Missourians. The United States officer in 
command of the whole camp came also to visit us, and re- 
mained some time at our camp. 

In the morning the country was covered with mist. 
We were always early risers, but before we were ready 6 
the voices of men driving in the cattle sounded all around 
us. As we passed above their camp, we saw through the 
obscurity that the tents were falling and the ranks rapidly 
forming; and mingled with the cries of women and chil- 
dren, the rolling of the Mormon drums and the clear 10 
blast of their trumpets sounded through the mist. 

From that time to the journey's end, we met almost 
every day long trains of government wagons, laden with 
stores for the troops, and crawling at a snail's pace 
toward Santa Fe. 15 

Tete Rouge had a mortal antipathy to danger, but on 
a foraging expedition one evening he achieved an adven- 
ture more perilous than had yet befallen any man in the 
party. The night after we left " the Ridge-path " we 
encamped close to the river. At sunset we saw a train 20 
of wagons encamping on the trail, about three miles off; 
and though we saw them distinctly, our little cart, as 
it afterward proved, entirely escaped their view. For 
some days Tete Rouge had been longing eagerly after a 
dram of whiskey. So, resolving to improve the present 25 
opportunity, he mounted his horse James, slung his 
canteen over his shoulder, and set forth in search of his 
favorite liquor. Some hours passed without his return- 
ing. We thought that he was lost, or perhaps that some 
stray Indian had snapped him up. While the rest fell 30 
asleep I remained on guard. Late that night a tremulous 
voice saluted me from the darkness, and Tete Rouge and 
James soon became visible advancing toward the camp. 
Tete Rouge was in much agitation and big with some 
important tidings. Sitting down on the shaft of the cart, 35 
he told the following story : 

When he left the camp he had no idea, he said, how 
late it was. By the time he approached the wagoners it 



370 The Oregon Trail 

was perfectly dark; and as he saw them all sitting around 
their fires within the circle of wagons, their guns laid by 
their sides, he thought he might as well give warning of 
his approach, in order to prevent a disagreeable mistake. 
5 Raising his voice to the highest pitch, he screamed out 
in prolonged accents, " Camp ahoy ! " This eccentric 
salutation produced anything but the desired result. Hear- 
ing such hideous sounds proceeding from the outer dark- 
ness, the wagoners thought that the whole Pawnee nation 

10 were about to break in and take their scalps. Up they 
sprang, staring with terror. Each man snatched his gun ; 
some stood behind the wagons; some threw themselves 
flat on the ground, and in an instant twenty cocked 
muskets were levelled full at the horrified Tete Rouge, 

15 who just then began to be visible through the dark- 
ness. 

" Thar they come ! " cried the master-wagoner ; " fire ! 
fire! Shoot that feller." 
" No, no ! " screamed Tete Rouge, in an ecstacy of 

20 fright ; " don't fire, don't ; I'm a friend, I'm an American 
citizen ! " 

" You're a friend, be you ? " cried a gruff voice from the 
wagons ; " then what are you yelling out thar for, like a 
wild Injun? Come along up here if you're a man." 

25 " Keep your guns p'inted at him," added the master- 
wagoner ; " maybe he's a decoy, like." 

Tete Rouge in utter bewilderment made his approach, 
with the gaping muzzles of the muskets still before his 
eyes. He succeeded at last in explaining his character 

30 and situation, and the Missourians admitted him into 
camp. He got no whiskey; but as he represented himself 
as a great invalid, and much suffering from coarse fare, 
they made up a contribution for him of rice, biscuit, and 
sugar from their own rations. 

35 In the morning, at breakfast, Tete Rouge once more 
related this story. We hardly knew how much of it to 
believe, though after some cross-questioning we failed 
to discover any flaw in the narrative. Passing by the 



The Settlements 371 

wagoners' camp, they confirmed Tete Rouge's account in 
every particular. 

" I wouldn't have been in that feller's place," said one 
of them, " for the biggest heap of money in Missouri." 

To Tete Rouge's great wrath they expressed a firm 5 
conviction that he was crazy. We left them after giving 
them the advice not to trouble themselves about war- 
whoops in the future, since they would be apt to feel an 
Indian's arrow before they heard his voice. 

A day or two after, we had an adventure of another 10 
sort with a party of wagoners. Henry and I rode for- 
ward to hunt. After that day there was no probability 
that we should meet with buffalo, and we were anxious to 
kill one for the sake of fresh meat. They were so wild 
that we hunted all the morning in vain, but at noon as 15 
we approached Cow Creek, we saw a large band feeding 
near its margin. Cow Creek is densely lined with trees 
which intercept the view beyond, and it runs, as we after- 
ward found, at the bottom of a deep trench. We ap- 
proached by riding along the bottom of a ravine. When 20 
we were near enough, I held the horses while Henry 
crept toward the buffalo. I saw him take his seat within 
shooting distance. The death of a fat cow was certain, 
when suddenly a great smoke arose from the bed of the 
creek with a rattling volley of musketry. A score of 25 
long-legged Missourians leaped out from among the trees 
and ran after the buffalo, who one and all took to their 
heels and vanished. These fellows had crawled up the 
bed of the creek to within a hundred yards of the buffalo. 
Never was there a fairer chance for a shot. They were 30 
good marksmen; all cracked away at once, and yet not 
a buffalo fell. In fact the animal is so tenacious of life 
that it requires no little knowledge of anatomy to kill it, 
and it is very seldom that a novice succeeds in his first 
attempt at " approaching." The balked Missourians were 35 
excessively mortified, especially when Henry told them 
that if they had kept quiet he would have killed meat 
enough in ten minutes to feed their whole party. Our 



372 The Oregon Trail 

friends, who were at no great distance, hearing such a 
formidable fusilade, thought the Indians had fired the 
volley for our benefit. Shaw came galloping on to recon- 
noitre and learn if we were yet in the land of the living. 
6 At Cow Creek we found the very welcome novelty of 
ripe grapes and plums, which grew there in abundance. 
At the Little Arkansas, not much farther on, we saw the 
last buffalo, a miserable old bull, roaming over the prairie 
alone and melancholy. 

10 From this time forward the character of the country 
was changing every day. We had left behind us the 
great arid deserts, meagerly covered by the tufted buffalo- 
grass, with its pale green hue and its short shrivelled 
blades. The plains before us were carpeted with rich and 

16 verdant herbage sprinkled with flowers. In place of 
buffalo we found plenty of prairie-hens, and we bagged 
them by dozens without leaving the trail. In three or 
four days we saw before us the broad woods and the 
emerald meadows of Council Grove, a scene of striking 

20 luxuriance and beauty. It seemed like a new sensation 
as we rode beneath the resounding arches of these noble 
woods. The trees were ash, oak, elm, maple, and hickory, 
their mighty limbs deeply overshadowing the path, while 
enormous grape-vines were entwined among them, purple 

25 with fruit. The shouts of our scattered party, and now 
and then a report of a rifle, rang amid the breathing still- 
ness of the forest. We rode forth again with regret into 
the broad light of the open prairie. Little more than a 
hundred miles now separated us from the frontier settle- 

30 ments. The whole intervening country was a succession 
of verdant prairies, rising in broad swells and relieved by 
trees clustering like an oasis around some spring, or 
following the course of a stream along some fertile hol- 
low. These are the prairies of the poet and the novelist. 

35 We had left danger behind us. Nothing was to be feared 
from the Indians of this region — the Sacs and Foxes, the 
Kansas, and the Osages. We had met with signal good 
fortune. Although for five months we had been travel- 



The Settlements 373 

ling with an insufficient force through a country where 
we were at any moment liable to depredation, not a single 
animal had been stolen from us. And our only loss had 
been one old mule bitten to death by a rattlesnake. 
Three weeks after we reached the frontier, the Pawnees 5 
and the Camanches began a regular series of hostilities 
on the Arkansas trail, killing men and driving off horses. 
They attacked, without exception, every party, large or 
small, that passed during the next six months. 

Diamond Spring, Rock Creek, Elder Grove, and other 10 
camping-places besides were passed, all in quick succes- 
sion. At Rock Creek we found a train of government 
provision wagons under the charge of an emaciated old 
man in his seventy-first year. Some restless American 
devil had driven him into the wilderness at a time when 15 
he should have been seated at his fireside with his grand- 
children on his knees. I am convinced that he never 
returned; he was complaining that night of a disease, 
the wasting effect of which upon a younger and stronger 
man, I myself had proved from severe experience. Long 20 
ere this, no doubt, the wolves have howled their moon- 
light carnival over the old man's attenuated remains. 

Not long after we came to a small trail leading to Fort 
Leavenworth, distant but one day's journey. Tete Rouge 
here took leave of us. He was anxious to go to the fort 25 
in order to receive payment for his valuable military 
services. So he and his horse James, after bidding an 
affectionate farewell, set out together, taking with them 
as much provision as they could conveniently carry, 
including a large quantity of brown sugar. On a cheer- 30 
less, rainy evening we came to our last encamping ground. 
Some pigs belonging to a Shawanoe farmer were grunting 
and rooting at the edge of the grove. 

"I wonder how fresh pork tastes?" murmured one of 
the party, and more than one voice murmured in response. 35 
The fiat went forth, " That pig must die," and a rifle was 
levelled forthwith at the countenance of the plumpest 
porker. Just then a wagon-train with some twenty Mis- 



374 The Oregon Trail 



sourians came out from among the trees. The marksman 
suspended his aim, deeming it inexpedient under the cir- 
cumstances to consummate the deed of blood. 

In the morning we made our toilet as well as circum- 
6 stances would permit, and that is saying but very little. 
In spite of the dreary rain of yesterday, there never was 
a brighter and gayer autumnal morning than that on 
which we returned to the settlements. We were passing 
through the country of the half-civilized Shawanoes. It 

16 was a beautiful alternation of fertile plains and groves, 
whose foliage was just tinged with the hues of autumn, 
while close beneath them rested the neat log-houses of 
the Indian farmers. Every field and meadow bespoke 
the exuberant fertility of the soil. The maize stood rus- 

15 tling in the wind, matured and dry, its shining yellow ears 
thrust out between the gaping husks. Squashes and 
enormous yellow pumpkins lay basking in the sun in the 
midst of their brown and shrivelled leaves. Robins and 
blackbirds flew about the fences ; and everything, in short, 

20 betokened our near approach to home and civilization. 
The forests that border on the Missouri soon rose before 
us, and we entered the wide tract of shrubbery which 
forms their outskirts. We had passed the same road on 
our outward journey in the spring, but its aspect was 

25 totally changed. The young wild apple trees, then flushed 
with their fragrant blossoms, were now hung thickly 
with ruddy fruit. Tall grass flourished by the roadside 
in place of the tender shoots just peeping from the warm 
and oozy soil. The vines were laden with dark purple 

30 grapes, and the slender twig of the maple, then tasselled 
with their clusters of small red flowers, now hung out a 
gorgeous display of leaves stained by the frost with burn- 
ing crimson. On every side we saw the tokens of maturity 
and decay where all had before been fresh and beautiful. 

35 We entered the forest, and ourselves and our horses were 
checkered, as we passed along, by the bright spots of 
sunlight that fell between the opening boughs. On either 
side the dark, rich masses of foliage almost excluded the 



The Settlements 375 

sun, though here and there its rays could find their way 
down, striking through the broad leaves and lighting 
them with a pure transparent green. Squirrels barked 
at us from the trees; coveys of young partridges ran 
rustling over the leaves below, and the golden oriole, 5 
the blue- jay, and the flaming red-bird darted among the 
shadowy branches. We hailed these sights and sounds 
of beauty by no means with an unmingled pleasure. Many 
and powerful as were the attractions which drew us 
toward the settlements, we looked back even at that 10 
moment with an eager longing toward the wilderness of 
prairies and mountains behind us. For myself, I had 
suffered more that summer from illness than ever before 
in my life, and yet to this hour I cannot recall those 
savage scenes and savage men without a strong desire 15 
again to visit them. 

At length, for the first time during about half a year, 
we saw the roof of a white man's dwelling between the 
opening trees. A few moments after we were riding over 
the miserable log-bridge that leads into the centre of 20 
Westport. Westport had beheld strange scenes, but a 
rougher looking troop than ours, with our worn equip- 
ments and broken-down horses, was never seen even there. 
We passed the well-remdmbered tavern, Boon's grocery, 
and old Vogle's dram-shop, and encamped on a meadow 25 
beyond. Here we were soon visited by a number of 
people who came to purchase our horses and equipage. 
This matter disposed of, we hired a wagon and drove on 
to Kansas Landing. Here we were again received under 
the hospitable roof of our old friend Colonel Chick, and 30 
seated under his porch, we looked down once more on 
the eddies of the Missouri. 

Deslauriers made his appearance in the morning, 
strangely transformed by the assistance of a hat, a coat, 
and a razor. His little log-house was among the woods 35 
not far off. It seemed he had meditated giving a ball on 
the occasion of his return, and had consulted Henry 
Chatillon as to whether it would do to invite his bour^ 



376 The Oregon Trail 

geois. Henry expressed his entire conviction that we 
would not take it amiss, and the invitation was now 
proffered accordingly, Deslauriers adding as a special in- 
ducement that Antoine Lajeunesse was to play the fiddle. 

5 We told him we would certainly come, but before the eve- 
ning arrived a steamboat, which came down from Fort 
Leavenworth, prevented our being present at the expected 
festivities. Deslauriers was on the rock at the landing- 
place, waiting to take leave of us. 

10 " Adieu ! 7nes bourgeois, adieu ! adieu ! " he cried out 
as the boat put off ; " when you go another time to 
de Rocky Montagnes I will go with you; yes, I will 
go! " 

He accompanied this patronizing assurance by jumping 

15 about, swinging his hat, and grinning from ear to ear. 
As the boat rounded a distant point, the last object that 
met our eyes was Deslauriers, still lifting his hat and 
skipping about the rock. We had taken leave of Munroe 
and Jim Gurney at Westport, and Henry Chatillon went 

20 down in the boat with us. 

The passage to St. Louis occupied eight days, during 
about a third of which time we were fast aground on 
sand-bars. We passed the steamer " Amelia," crowded 
with a roaring crew of disbanded volunteers, swearing, 

25 drinking, gambling, and fighting. At length one evening 
we reached the crowded levee of St. Louis. Repairing 
to the Planters' House, we caused diligent search to be 
made for our trunks, which, after some time, were dis- 
covered stowed away in the farthest corner of the store- 

30 room. In the morning we hardly recognized each other ; 
a frock of broadcloth had supplanted the frock of buck- 
skin; well-fitted pantaloons took the place of the Indian 
leggings, and polished boots were substituted for the 
gaudy moccasins. 

35 After we had been several days at St. Louis we heard 
news of Tete Rouge. He had contrived to reach Fort 
Leavenworth, where he had found the paymaster and 
received his money. As a boat was just ready to start 



The Settlements 377 

for St. Louis, he went on board and engaged his passage. 
This done, he immediately got drunk on shore, and the 
boat went off without him. It was some days before 
another opportunity occurred, and meanwhile the sutler's 
stores furnished him with abundant means of keeping up 5 
his spirits. Another steamboat came at last, the clerk 
of which happened to be a friend of his, and by the advice 
of some charitable person on shore, he persuaded Tete 
Rouge to remain on board, intending to detain him there 
until the boat should leave the fort. At first Tete Rouge 10 
was well contented with this arrangement, but on apply- - 
ing for a dram, the bar-keeper, at the clerk's instigation, 
refused to let him have it. Finding them both inflexible 
in spite of his entreaties, he became desperate and made 
his escape from the boat. The clerk found him, after a 15 
long search, in one of the barracks; a circle of dragoons 
stood contemplating him as he lay on the floor, maudlin 
drunk and crying dismally. With the help of one of them 
the clerk pushed him on board, and our informant, who 
came down in the same boat, declares that he remained 20 
in great despondency during the whole passage. As we 
left St. Louis soon after his arrival, we did not see the 
worthless, good-natured little vagabond again. 

On the evening before our departure, Henry Chatillon 
came to our rooms at the Planters' House to take leave 25 
of us. No one who met him in the streets of St. Louis 
would have taken him for a hunter fresh from the Rocky 
Mountains. He was very neatly and simply dressed in a 
suit of dark cloth ; for although since his sixteenth year he 
had scarcely been for a month together among the abodes 30 
of men, he had a native good taste and a sense of propriety 
which always led him to pay great attention to his per- 
sonal appearance. His tall athletic figure, with its easy 
flexible motions, appeared to advantage in his present 
dress ; and his fine face, though roughened by a thousand 35 
storms, was not at all out of keeping with it. We took 
leave of him with much regret ; and unless his changing 
features, as he shook us by the hand, belied him, the 



378 The Oregon Trail 

feeling on his part was no less than ours.* Shaw had 
given him a horse at Westport. My rifle, which he had 
always been fond of using, as it was an excellent piece, 
much better than his own, is now in his hands, and per- 
C haps at this moment its sharp voice is startling the echoes 
of the Rocky Mountains. On the next morning we left 
town, and after a fortnight of railroads and steamboats 
we saw once more the familiar features of home. 

* I cannot take leave of the reader without adding a word 
of the guide who had served us throughout with such zeal 
and fidelity. Indeed, his services had far surpassed the 
terms of his engagement. Yet whoever had been his em- 
ployers, or to whatever closeness of intercourse they might 
have thought fit to admit him, he would never have changed 
the bearing of quiet respect which he considered due to his 
bourgeois. If sincerity and honor, a boundless generosity 
of spirit, a delicate regard to the feelings of others, and a 
nice perception of what was due to them, are the essential 
characteristics of a gentleman, then Henry Chatillon deserves 
the title. He could not write his own name, and he had 
spent his life among savages. In him sprang up spontane- 
ously those qualities which all the refinements of life and 
intercourse with the highest and best of the better part of 
mankind fail to awaken in the brutish nature of some men. 
In spite of his bloody calling, Henry was always humane and 
merciful ; he was gentle as a woman, though braver than a 
lion. He acted aright from the free impulses of his large 
and generous nature. A certain species of selfishness is es- 
sential to the sternness of spirit which bears down opposition 
and subjects the will of others to its own. Henry's char- 
acter was of an opposite stamp. His easy good-nature almost 
amounted to weakness ; yet, while it unfitted him for any 
position of command, it secured the esteem and good-will of 
all those who were not jealous of his skill and reputation. 



THE END 



NOTES AND COMMENT 



NOTES AND COMMENT 

(Heavy numerals refer to page; light ones to line) 

3, I. What qualities of an excellent introduction mark 
the first paragraph? 

3, 2. St. Louis: then the metropolis of the Mississippi 
Valley. It was the headquarters of trade with the Great 
Northwest and with Santa Fe. 

3, 5. Santa Fe. See Introduction, p. xir. 

3, 14. Snagged. During the spring freshets the Missouri 
tore aw-.y its banks, washing down trees whose branches 
caught or pierced the boats. 

4, 15. Mountain men: the hunters and trappers of the 
Rockies. 

4, 17. Struggled. Parkman was very skillful in his use 
of verbs expressing motion. Watch for other illustrations. 

4, 37. Abatis: a defense of sharpened timbers with the 
points bristling toward the enemy. 

5, 19. French hunters. Many of these hunters were of 
French-Canadian descent. Notice in Chapter II the names of 
Parkman's attendants and of the trappers they meet later. 

5, 34. Westport. From Westport, now a suburb of 
Kansas City, and from the neighboring town of Independence, 
companies took the trail overland for Santa Fe and for 
Oregon. See Introduction, p. xiii. 

6, 10. Shawanoes and Delawares. For a brief account 
of the chief Indian tribes mentioned here and later, see the 
Int^roduction, p. xi. Also consult map. 

6, 26. Captain C. Why does the author not give his 
name in full? 
6, 36. "Kentucky fellows:" the captain's designation for 

381 



382 



Notes and Comment 



the immigrants, few of whom, however, were from that state. 

7, II. Trail-rope: a long rope for leading or tethering a 
horse. 

8. 12. Doctrine of regeneration. Point out other illus- 
rations of Parkman's ability to reveal character through some 

little act. 

10, 10. Fort Leavenworth: a military post established in 
1827 on the Missouri, about thirty miles above Westport. 

10, 10. Path marked out by the dragoons. See p. 234, 
I4flf. 

10, 25. Daniel Boone (1734-1820) : a famous Kentucky 
backwoodsman and Indian fighter; late in life he moved to 
Missouri. 

12, 9. Meanwhile the party, etc. Notice how skillfully 
Parkman here introduces his companions. 

12, 38. " Sacre enfant de garce": a French-Canadian 
oath. 

i3> 15- Jean Baptiste: a nickname for a French-Canadian 
of the lower class. 

13, 17. Bourgeois (boor-zwah) : master, commander, chief, 
boss. 

13, 22. Fur company. The American Fur Company, or- 
ganized by John Jacob Astor. a rich New York merchant, 
had its western base at St. Louis. Through its posts and 
trading parties it practically controlled the fur trade of the 
Missouri basin. 

16, 17. Captain Joseph Parks (1793-1859) : perhaps the 
greatest and most intelligent Shawanoe chief after the fall 
of Tecumseh. He was a firm friend of the whites. 

16, 20. A considerable number of slaves. The Indians 
had few negro slaves though they frequently held members 
of their own race. "Among several of the tribes beyond 
the Rocky Mountains," says Irving in his Astoria, " the 
slaves are well treated in good health, but occupied in all 
kinds of drudgery. Should they become useless, however, by 
sickness or old age, they are totally neglected and left to 
perish." 

17, 30. Hendrick and Pontiac: the former named after 



Notes and Comment 383 

a Mohawk chief and the latter after an Ottawa, both of 
whom were famous in early Indian wars. 

17, 36. A sulky air of a lubbery boy. Note from time 
to time Parkman's skill in depicting horses. 

22, 2. General Kearny. In the summer of 1845 he 
marched to and returned from the West by the route Park- 
man afterwards followed. For an account of his expedition to 
Mexico, in 1846, to which Parkman frequently refers, see 
Introduction, p. xv. 

25, 5. Pukwi lodges: possibly the small, slight summer 
lodges made of rush mats. 

26, II. Sixteen to the pound caliber: a very large bullet 
about the weight of a silver dollar. 

27, I, Blackstone's Commentaries: a standard textbook 
for law students, from which Parkman was glad to escape. 

27, 26. "Man nor brute," etc. From Byron's Mazeppa, 
XVII. The hero was bound to the back of a fierce horse 
which bore him far into the wilds of Russia. 

28, 32. Sacres: oaths. 

33, 19- "Catch up": hitch up. 

35, 5. Videttes: mounted sentinels. 

36, 29. St. Joseph. " Beginning in 1844 Saint Joseph, then 
a thriving border town, situated on the river [the Missouri] 
some fifty miles to the north of the first jumping off places, 
became an important fitting out place." Quarterly of Oregon 
Hist. Soc, I, 354. See map. 

37, ID. " Latter Day Saints." The Mormons call their 
church "The Church of Jesus of Latter-Day Saints." 

38, 3. "Gentiles": Non-Mormons. 
41, 31. "Dor-bug": the black beetle. 

44, 18. "Voulez vous" etc. Do you want supper now? 
I can make a fire under the cart. 

48, 10. Three kingdoms: England, Scotland, Ireland. 

49, 9. Bond Street: then a fashionable promenade; now 
a part of the better shopping district. 

49, 2>^. Macaulay's Lays: the Lays of Ancient Rome 
which had appeared in 1842. 

50, I. Eothen. R. was correct in maintaining that Eothen, 



384 



Notes and Comment 



a series of letters " From the East," published anonymously 
in 1844, was not by the English author, Richard Monckton 
Milnes, but by Alexander William Kinglake (1809-1891). 

50, 16. George Borrow (1803-1881) : he wrote very enter- 
tainingly of life among the Spanish gypsies. 

50, 20. Joseph Story (1799-1845) : associate-justice of the 
Supreme Court of the United States ; professor of law at 
Harvard; and one of America's greatest legal authorities. 

51, 25. "The livelong day he had not spoke." Scott's 
Marmion, Canto III, Stanza xiii. 

51, 37. Lariettes: lassos. 

53, 20. Big Blue. This stream flows south till it joins 
the Kansas River at Manhattan, Kansas. 

54, II. The story of Mahomet. When a mountain did 
not move at Mahomet's bidding, he said, "If the mountain 
will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet will go to the mountain." 

55, 4, The old legitimate trail. See Introduction, p xiii. 
60, 34. " Oui, oui, monsieur": yes, yes, sir. 

63, 8. Last year a Dakota warrior, etc. Compare this 
passage with the following from the Conspiracy of Pontiac, 
I, 256, and note how Parkman sometimes used in his his- 
tories materials gathered on the plains : " Starting alone into 
the heart of an enemy's country, he prowls around the hostile 
village, watching every movement, and when night sets in, he 
enters a lodge, and calmly stirs the decaying embers that, 
by their light, he may select his sleeping victims. With cool 
deliberation he deals the mortal thrust, foe after foe, and 
tearing away scalp after scalp, until at length an alarm is 
given; then with a wild yell, he bounds into the darkness 
and is gone." 

65, 27. Grates on the teeth in drinking. Find other 
illustrations of Parkman's use of vivid, concrete details. 

65, 36. Bull hide: the hide of the buffalo bull. 

68, I. Capotes: long heavy cloaks with hoods. 

69, I. " Bois de vache": dry buffalo manure. 

74, 29. The boats. These were made of buffalo hides 
stretched over a wooden frame; they displaced only a few 
inches of water. 



Notes and Comment 385 



85, Title. Taking French leave: going without giving 
notice. 

85, 2. South Fork of the Platte. See map. 
91, I. "Avance done!" get up! 

91, II. Ash Hollow: on the North Fork of the Platte, 
close to the present Ogallalla, Nebraska. 

92, 21. Scott's Bluff. In 1830, Scott, a fur trader, fell 
sick while descending the Platte river and was abandoned 
by his companions. The next year they found his bones on 
the present Scott's Bluff. He had crawled fifty miles before 
death released him. His story is told at length in Irving's 
Astoria. 

93, 22. The mystic whistle, etc. '' He [the Indian] was 
not sure that a thundercloud could not be frightened away by 
whisthng at it through the wing-bone of an eagle." Park- 
man's Conspiracy of Pontiac, I, 83. 

95, 20. Macbeth's witches: the withered, skinny, uncanny 
creatures of Shakespeare's Macbeth, Act I, scenes i and 3. 

97, 3. The Black Hills. Parkman here refers not to the 
Black Hills of Dakota but to the Laramie ridge in south- 
eastern Wyoming, between the North Platte and the Medicine 
Bow Mountains. 

98, 35. Shongsasha: the dried bark of the red willow. 
100, 17. " At the first plunge ": Scott, The Lay of the Last 

Minstrel, Canto I, Stanza 29. 

100, 28. Fort Laramie. " Fort Laramie belongs to the 
American Fur Company, and is built for a protection against 
the Indians. The occupants of this fort, who have long been 
there, being mostly French and having wives of the Sioux, 
do not apprehend any danger. The fort is built of Dobies 
(unburnt bricks). A wall of six feet in thickness and fifteen 
feet in height, encloses an area of one hundred and fifty 
feet square. Within and around the walls . . . are a Trad- 
ing House, Ware Houses for storing goods and skins, Shops 
and Dwellings for traders and men." Quarterly of Oregon 
Hist. Soc., VII, 78. 

loi, 12. Engages: employees 

107, 12. George Catlin (1796-1872) : he traveled for eight 



386 



Notes and Comment 



years among the Indians, visiting nearly fifty tribes 
and painting nearly five hundred portraits. His books, 
describing and illustrating Indian manners, were once widely 
read. 

107. 35- Travaux: a Canadian corruption of traineaux. 

108, 4. The confusion was prodigious. Parkman is at 
his best in describing scenes filled with life and movement. 
Point out a number of such passages. 

no, 10. The Ottawa. For the Canadian boatman the 
Ottawa river supplied a great highway from the St. Lawrence 
to Lake Huron and Lake Superior. 

no, 15. Monterey and Buena Vista: the scenes of Gen- 
eral Taylor's victories over the Mexicans. At Buena Vista 
four thousand regulars and volunteers routed five times their 
number of Mexicans. 

112, 15. Meneaska: white men. 

ii3f 35. Spanish flies: bright green beetles; dried and 
powdered they were used to produce blisters. 

117, 10. Laramie Plains: about 1200 square miles directly 
to the west of Fort Laramie. 

119, 34. The same disorder, etc. Both in the Mexican 
and in the Civil War the armies suffered greatly from 
dysentery. 

120, 26. Travail: here used as the singular of travaux. 
See p. 107. 

121, 6. Absinth: wild sage, which covers large areas of the 
dry western country. 

123, 25. Par' fleche: rawhide. 

125, 3. Chugwater: a stream flowing into the Laramie 
southwest of Fort Laramie. See map. 

126, 19. Capuchin friars: a branch of the Franciscans, 
which received their name from their long, pointed cowls or 
hoods (Latin, caput = head). 

126, 29. Astoria. In 1836 Irving published his account of 
the attempt made by J. J. Astor in 1811-1813 to establish a 
trading post at the mouth of the Columbia river. 

131, 12. Fort Pierre: northeast of Fort Laramie; opposite 
the present Pierre, South Dakota. 



Notes and Comment 387 

I33» 29. Free trappers. " They are generally Canadians 
by birth, and of French descent, who have been employed 
for a term of years by some fur company, but, their term 
being expired, continue to hunt and trap on their own 
account, trading with the Company like the Indians. Hence 
they derive their appellation of Freemen, to distinguish them 
from the trappers who are bound for a number of years, 
and receive wages, or hunt on shares." Irving's Astoria, 
ed. 1895, I, 164. 

141, 28. Medicine-pipe: magic pipe. , 

142, 32. She . . . did the hardest labor of the camp. 
" As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining 
of their lot. On the contrary, they would despise their hus- 
bands could they stoop to any menial office, and would think 
it conveyed an imputation upon their own conduct. It is the 
worst insult one virago can cast upon another in a moment of 
altercation. * Infamous woman ! ' will she cry, ' I have seen 
your husband carry wood into his lodge to make the fire. 
Where was his squaw that he should be obliged to make a 
woman of himself.' " Astoria, ed. 1895, I, 299. 

144, 8. King Philip, Pontiac, Tecumseh: Indian chiefs 
who tried to stem the advance of the whites. The first was 
the leader in King Philip's war in New England (1675-1676). 
The second led the uprising, centering in the siege of Detroit 
described by Parkman in his Conspiracy of Pontiac. The 
followers of the third, a Shawanoe chief, were routed by 
General Harrison in 181 1 at Tippecanoe. 

144, 19. River St. Peter's: now called the Minnesota 
river. 

145, 30. " Parks." The principal open valleys in the 
Colorado Mountains are those known at the North, Middle, 
and South Parks.. . . In them the North Platte, Grand, 
and South Platte rivers respectively find their sources." Chit- 
tenden, History of the American Fur Trade, II, 750. 

147, 9. Semper Paratus: always ready. 

147, II. Nestor: in Homer's Iliad the oldest and wisest 
counselor of all the Greek leaders. 

148, 18. Le Borgne: the One-Eyed. 



388' 



Notes and Comment 



154, 31. Pommes blanches (white apples) : a species of 
wild turnip, also called Indian bread root. 

155, 23. Salvator Rosa (161 5-1673) : an Italian painter 
who sought his subjects in wild, savage places and among 
bands of robbers. 

156, 6. The Pythian Apollo: representing the sun god 
as he slays the Pythian dragon. Also called Apollo Belvedere 
after the room (Belvedere = Fair View) where it stands 
in the Vatican Gallery. Parkman had visited Rome in 

1844. 
156, 8. Benjamin West (1738-1820) : American painter. 

156, 9. Mohawk: perhaps the fiercest and strongest of the 
powerful five tribes of the Iroquois in Northern New York. 

157, 20. Compelled to employ the pen of another. See 
Introduction, p. ix. 

160, 30. Pike's Peak: a famous Rocky Mountain summit, 
14,140 feet high, about seventy miles south of Denver. 

168, 13. Leather Stocking: Indian hunter and backwoods- 
man ; the hero of Cooper's Leathorstocking Tales. 

171, 33. Mount Laramie: the highest peak in the Black 
Hills toward which Parkman was journeying. 

176, 6. Apennines. " There is unbounded sublimity in 
the Coliseum by moonlight, — that cannot be denied, — St. 
Peter's, too, is a miracle in its way ; but I would give them 
all for one ride on horseback among the Apennines." Farn- 
ham's Life of Parkman, p. 192. 

186, 24. Genius loci: the spirit of the place. 

186, 36. Frascati's; Trois Freres Provengaux; Tom 
Crawford's. The first was a high class London restaurant; 
the second (The Three Brothers from Provenge) was a well 
known place in Paris ; and the third a New Hampshire resort 
which Parkman visited in 1841. 

189, 14. Medicine Bow Mountains. See map. 

193, 8: "How, cola!" An Indian phrase of welcome. 

197, 14. " Soldiers." See p. 243, 20 and note on p. 212, 30. 

201, 6. Squaws bustled about, etc. " Two quick working 
women can put up a tepee in five minutes and take it down 
in three." Dodge, Our Wild Indians, p. 234. 



Notes and Comment 389 

203, 6. " Et haec etiam." The line from Virgil's JEneid, 
I, 203, which Parkman quotes incorrectly, may be translated 
thus : " Perchance it may please you some day to recall these 
trials." 

205, 7. Mackenzie, Kenneth (1801-1861) : one of the 
leaders in the American Fur Company. 

205, 28. Teos: about fifty miles north of Santa Fe; then 
an important settlement. 

212, 13. Pemican. " It was prepared by cutting the flesh 
into thin slices, thoroughly drying it, preferably in smoke, un- 
til it was hard and crisp; then pulverizing it by pounding 
upon a stone, and finally mixing it with an equal weight of 
buffalo tallow or marrow fat." Chittenden, History of the 
American Fur Trade, II, 811. 

212, 30. Soldiers. " The soldier is the one who governs 
the band, and rules the chief, too. . . . His lodge, pitched 
in the center of the camp, is organized with a view to keep 
order . . . mostly to prevent anyone from going out alone 
on a hunt, so as not to raise the buffalo, but also for mutual 
protection against enemies. When anyone is caught outside, 
his dogs are shot, his lodge is cut to pieces; and if he rebels, 
he gets a pounding — the chief not excepted." Larpenteur, 
Forty Years a Fur Trader, II, 403. 

217, 9. Drawing out an arrow. Captain Bonneville, 
Gregg, Catlin, and others declare that at times the Indian's 
arrow passed entirely through the buffalo's body. 

220, 8. It is a bad thing ... to tell tales in summer. 
" The tales must not be told in summer ; since at that season, 
when all Nature is full of life, the spirits are awake, and, 
hearing what is said of them, may take offense; whereas in 
winter they are fast sealed up in snow and ice, and no longer 
capable of listening." Parkman, The Jesuits in North 
America, I, 85. 

222, 30. Sanco Panza: the short, fat squire in Cervantes's 
Don Quixote. When his master refused to pay the bill at an 
inn, Sanco also refused to pay and was tossed in a blanket by 
" nine f rolicksome fellows." 

223, 25. Fremont's Expedition: Repart of the Exploring 



390 Notes and Comment 

Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, 1842, and to Oregon and 
North California, 1843-1844. In planning his trip Park- 
man had studied carefully this Report, which appeared in 

1845. 

234, 18. Bent's Fort. This post was erected in 1832 at 
the point where the upper branch of the Santa Fe trail 
crosses the Arkansas, near the present La Junta, Colorado. 
See map. " It was the great cross-roads station of the south- 
west. The north and south route between the Platte river 
country and Santa Fe, and the east and west route up the 
Arkansas and into the mountains found this the most natural 
trading point." Twitchell, Leading Facts of New Mex. Hist., 
II, 120. 

234, 21. Sweetwater. The Oregon Trail followed this 
small branch of the North Platte to its source in the South 
Pass, See map. 

239, ZZ- It . . . laughter. Parkman here quotes incor- 
rectly, probably from memory, the following from Gold- 
smith's Vicar of Wakefield: "And what the conversation 
wanted in wit was made up in laughter." 

249, 22. Black-tailed deer. " The black-tailed deer is 
considerably larger than the red deer, the bucks in good season 
not infrequently weighing over 250 pounds. Its color is a 
very dark grey or mouse color." Dodge, The Plains of the 
Great West, p. 174. 

251, Z7- Hunting for gold. In 1874 gold was discovered 
in this region which has since proved one of the richest in 
America. 

252, 10. Witch hazel rod. In the hands of some people 
this rod is supposed to turn and thus indicate the presence 
of veins of water, of gold, and other precious metals. 

264, 4. Rocky Mountain sheep. " They bound like goats 
from crag to crag, often trooping along the lofty shelves of 
the mountains, under the guidance of some venerable patri- 
arch, with horns twisted lower than his muzzle, and some- 
times peering over the edge of a precipice, so high that they 
appear scarce bigger than crows." Irving, Captain Bonnetnlle, 
ed: 1895, I, 36. 



Notes and Comment 391 

264, 31. Nomme de guerre: war name. 

267, 2. St. Peter's. This is the largest church in the 
world ; Raphael and Michelangelo helped adorn it. 

267, 6. Mount Etna. " Mount ^tna is smoking vigor- 
ously in front of us. We are skirting the shores of Sicily." 
Parkman's Diary. 

267, 10. The Passionists: an order of monks receiving 
its name from its vow to meditate and preach upon the 
Passion, or the suffering and death of Christ. 

267, 16. Spliigen: an Alpine pass through which Park- 
man crossed into Switzerland. 

269, 17. Soft hearted philosophers, etc. Does Parkman 
often pause thus to moralize? 

277, 30. The worst of the three; the Byron. 

278, I ff. Chapter XX. The following chapter offers ex- 
cellent material for a study of Parkman's management of 
paragraph transitions. 

278, 24. Sublette. William Sublette (1799-1845) was one 
of four bold and successful brothers famous in the fur 
trade. 

280, 9, Nathaniel J. Wyeth: a Yankee hunter, explorer, 
fur trader, and salmon merchant, whose bravery and in- 
dustry brought him more fame than money. 

284, 27. The Pueblo: probably west of the site of the 
present city of Pueblo, Colorado. See map. 

286, 26. Taylor's victories. Metamoras was taken May 
18, 1846. 

287, 4. Poncho: a Spanish- American cloak, made by 
slitting a hole in the middle of the blanket through which to 
pass one's head. 

287, 12. "to daff the world": from Shakespeare's Henry 
IV, Part First, Act III, scene i. 

288, 2. Nicolo Paganini ( 1784- 1840) : a celebrated Italian 
violinist. 

292, 4. Long's Peak. This famous peak, forty-eight miles 
northwest of Denver, was named after the explorer. Colonel 
Stephen H. Long. It is. 14,271 feet high. 

292, 17. Scylla and Charybdis. On one side of the 



392 Notes and Comment 

strait between Italy and Sicily is a reef and on the other a 
whirlpool, each alike dreadful to sailors in ancient times. 

293, 15. St. Patrick. According to tradition St. Patrick 
banished all the snakes from Ireland. 

293, 26. Sweating lodges. " A small structure, shaped like 
a bake-oven, with an opening in the side, is constructed of 
rough stone, if possible on a bank overlooking a pool of 
water. A fire is built within, and when a proper degree of 
heat is attained, the fire is raked out ; the patient . . . crawls 
in, and the opening is closed with a blanket. When almost 
baked, and the perspiration streaming from every pore, he 
is taken out and plunged into the river below. In some in- 
stances this treatment is very efficacious. In others the 
patient enters the water and the Happy Hunting Grounds at 
the same instant." Dodge, The Plains of the Great West, 
338. 

296, 9. "Des sauvages!" The savages! 

297, I. " Morn dawns, and with it stern Albania's hills ": 
Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto II, 11. 370-378. 
Parkman knew by heart much of Byron's verse. 

297, 13. "Their hand is against every man." See 
Genesis XVI, 12. 

297, 30. Capri: a craggy island at the mouth of the Bay 
of Naples. 

297, 36. "La Fontaine qui Bouille": Boiling Spring 
Creek; it flows into the Arkansas at Pueblo, Colorado. 

300, 18. Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. General 
Taylor's victories at Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma forced 
the Mexicans to the south of the Rio Grande. 

303, 4. Nauvoo. This capital of the Mormons was founded 
in 1840, about twelve miles above Keokuk, on the Illinois bank 
of the Mississippi, and soon had a population of fifteen thou- 
sand. The great stone temple, costing nearly a million 
dollars, was ruined by fire in 1848. 

303, 9. Raymond: "The hunter Raymond perished in the 
snow during Fremont's disastrous passage to the mountains 
in the winter of 1848." Preface to the 1872 edition of The 
Oregon Trail. 



Notes and Comment 393 

305, 20. Yager: a rather inefifective rifle once carried by 
light infantry. 

307, 26. Tete Rouge: Red Head. 

308, 28. Calomel: a compound of mercury and chlorine, 
then much used as a cure-all. 

314, 29. The Caches. In 1823 two Santa Fe traders had 
been forced to " cache " or bury their merchandise five miles 
west of the present Dodge City, Kansas. A cache was 
usually made by digging a deep jug-shaped hole and lining 
it with grass or sticks. After closing the cache the traveler 
concealed the place by building a camp fire over it or by 
relaying the sod. 

318, 14. Maxwell. Lucian Maxwell accompanied Fremont 
in 1842 and in 1843-4; he was commonly regarded as the 
best authority on the Indians of the plains. 

326, 32. Kit Carson. Christopher Carson (1809-1869) was 
celebrated as a hunter and Indian agent and as Fremont's 
guide. 

329, 13. " Oui, bien charge," etc. " Yes, well loaded 
. . . my boss . . . it is a good gun." 

341, 34. Victory: Lord Nelson's flagship at the battle of 
Trafalgar, 1805. 

343, 5. Person: Richard Porson (1759-1808), a renowned 
Greek scholar, and professor of Greek at Cambridge. He 
received his early training in the great boys' school at 
Eton. 

343, 6. Fleet Street: a London thoroughfare flanked by 
small shops. 

343, 6. Chesterfield, Earl of (1694-1773) : the model of 
his age in social manners. 

345. 31- " preferring the tyranny of the open night." 
See Shakespeare's King Lear, Act III, scene 4, line 2. 

350, 4. Old trail of the Cimarron: the more direct trail 
paralleling for many miles the Cimarron River. Kearny 
branched from this trail at The Caches and followed the 
Arkansas to Bent's Fort, a route now used by the Santa Fe 
Railway. 

350, 6. Price's Missouri regiment. Sterling Price (1809- 



394 Notes and Commenf 

1867) resigned his seat in Congress to lead the Second 
Missouri Cavalry in the Mexican War. 

350, 21. Doniphan's regiment. Alexander William Doni- 
phan (1808-1887) commanded the First Missouri Cavalry. In 
1847, at Sacramento, a city in Northern Mexico, his regiment 
routed four times their number of Mexicans. 

368, 14. Mormons. Kearny had enlisted at Fort Leaven- 
worth this body of five hundred Mormons, then on their 
way to California. 

372, 7. Little Arkansas. It flows into the Arkansas at 
Wichita, Kansas. See map. 

372, 19. Council Grove. Here the caravans for Santa 
Fe were organized. 

375, 29. Kansas Landing: Kansas City. 



QUESTIONS FOR STUDY AND REVIEW 

Make a list of those passages which refer to Parkman's 
purpose in going to the West; to his earlier life. Sum- 
marize what you learn from them. 

What details bring home most forcefully the hardships of 
the trip? 

Summarize what you have learned of the nature and 
habits of the buffalo. What were the two chief ways of 
hunting them? Describe each in detail. 

What are some of Parkman's prophecies that have since 
come true? 

Which do you consider the most interesting chapter in 
the book? the least? Account for your choice. 

Find illustrations of Parkman's ability to make interest- 
ing and attractive, the little incidents of the day. 

Select a vivid picture of a mountain storm, of a tree, 
of a sunrise or sunset, of a night on the plains, of some 
animal of the prairies. Try to determine the source of its 
effectiveness. 

Indicate some especially picturesque passages which an 
artist might select for illustration. Defend your choice. 

Have your ideas of the Indians been changed by reading 
this book? If so, how? 

How does Parkman's portrayal of the Indian differ from 
Cooper's ? 

What, according to Parkman, are the good traits, and 
what the bad, in the Indian character? Point out incidents 
that illustrate these different traits. 

Describe an Indian village on a quiet afternoon, at night, 
breaking camp and journeying along the trail, at the time of 
a buffalo hunt. 

Give a three-minute talk on one of the following topics: 

395 



39^ Questions 

the Indians as hunters; the life of the squaws; Indian chil- 
dren ; Indian lodges ; their hospitality ; their burial and mourn- 
ing customs ; their religion and superstitions ; their relations 
with the whites. 

Which of the Indians here portrayed should you like best 
to see? 

Which is the most ridiculous person appearing in the 
book? What is Parkman's attitude toward him? 

Find illustrations of Parkman's ability to describe a char- 
acter in a few words. Where has he pictured the person by 
some little act, or by some peculiarity of appearance? 

What feature of the face does he describe most frequently? 

Point out some excellent descriptions of animals, especially 
of horses. Should you judge he was expert in managing 
them? 

What do you learn about Parkman from his relations with 
Henry Chatillon? with Quincey Adams Shaw? with Captain 
C. ? with Tete Rouge? with the Indians? 

What was Parkman's attitude toward the immigrants, the 
trappers and hunters, the Mormons, the soldiers? 

Was Parkman thoroughly justified (Chapter VIII) in 
"taking French leave"? 

Select some passage or passages illustrating his determina- 
tion, his resourcefulness, his independence and bravery, his 
occasional rashness, his sensitiveness to sounds, his ability 
to read character, his wide range of interests, his culture. 

What aspects of nature did he especially enjoy? 

Do you fancy he was planning to write this book when he 
started for the prairies? 

A good title should be brief, fresh, attractive, and sug- 
gestive. Judged by these standards, which are the best of 
Parkman's chapter headings? 

Parkman was especially skillful in ending his chapters 
effectively. At times he rouses our expectation ; or, again, 
he shows some enterprise terminating in success or failure. 
Occasionally he uses some picturesque touch or a flash of 
humor. Select chapter endings that illustrate each of these 
methods. 



Questions 397 

Point out instances where he increases the interest or 
vividness of his narrative by the use of dialogue, by a touch 
of humor, by some attractive incident or short story. 

Study carefully Parkman's diction. Pick out some well 
chosen verbs, some vivid adjectives, some especially effective 
phrases, some old-fashioned expressions. 

Does he employ many unusual words? any scholarly 
words? What are some of his words and phrases coming 
fresh from western life? 




" Tis tlie 
good reader 
that makes 
the good 
book." 



Emerson. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




016 099 770 9 



